


player, champagne, showtime

by simplytrashh



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - 365 FRESH, Angst and (slight) Humor, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drug Addiction, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide Attempts, Tags May Change, Theft, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Drug Use, edawn!mark, happy ending??, hui!jackson, hyuna!jinyoung, im bad at tagging (but what's new)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplytrashh/pseuds/simplytrashh
Summary: A con artist, a murderer, and a suicidal drug addict walk into a bar. The rest is history.In which Jackson knows nothing but how to steal, Jinyoung is a romantic, and Mark can't seem to die.365 fresh! au
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom, Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan, Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 30
Kudos: 66





	1. the beginning of the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i'm in love with 365 fresh by triple h and i had to write a fic based on it so here it is!
> 
> i have no idea how this is going to end so that's really fun but i'm excited about this story :)

It's only 9 a.m. in the morning and Jackson thinks he's absolutely fucked.

Technically, it's his fault; he didn't _have_ to steal the most prized possession of the mafia family he had infiltrated in but he did. 

He, of course, didn't _have_ to trade in that ridiculously shiny jewel for a huge bag of raw cash but he did.

Okay, so it might have been completely his fault, but he blames it on being a kleptomaniac. 

Of course, there is a good reason for his stealing addiction.

So here he is, being chased down by four very aggressive men with tattoos and knives, yelling at him to stop running.

 _As fucking if,_ Jackson scoffs, turning a corner, only to face two more men.

Jackson, with all his athleticism and muscles, knows that he's outnumbered.

"Guys," Jackson grins, splaying his hands and backing away into a wall.

_Well, fuck._

"There has to be a misunderstanding." Jackson tries to speak, but the man with the shiny gold earring pressed a knife to his neck. 

"I don't think there's any misunderstanding, Daniel," Jackson almost laughs at his fake name, if it wasn't for his situation. "You really fucked up this time."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jason," As Jason pressed his knife into him harder, Jackson winces. Jason is one of the boss’s underhand, and he always hated Jackson with a passion.

"No tricks here, Daniel," Jason leans back, "You give us the jewel or the money by tonight, or you won't live to see tomorrow. Boss'll make sure of it."

As Jackson takes a breath, he's suddenly knocked out by another man, the one with the shitty tattoos and cheap gold chains. 

He grabs Jackson's hair, spitting on the ground besides him. “I've hated you for a long time. And so do the others. Now that you fucked up and don't have the boss's protection, we can have some fun."

He grins, and Jackson feels a punch to his face, the rings on the puncher making a deep cut on Jackson's nose.

Okay, maybe he deserved that.

"Never liked his attitude," someone says, aiming a kick at Jackson's stomach, hitting him hard as he doubles over. "Thinks he's hot shit just because of his looks."

Jackson disagrees—he thinks he's hot shit because he's attractive _and_ because he's good at stealing. Better than these assholes, at least. 

"Let's go," Jackson hears Jason's voice as he's left in the corner of an alley, his vision blurry and body aching. "By tonight, Daniel!"

Once the gang leaves, Jackson crawls up, gritting his teeth as he makes his way to a few blocks down. There's an apartment there, and he knocks on the door as he clutches his stomach, leaning against the door frame.

"Who is it?" Comes a voice from the other side, and Jackson groans.

"JB-hyung, I'm literally dying."

The door immediately opens, and Jackson stumbles in as a pair of hands catch him, helping him to the couch.

"Christ, dude," Jackson turns his head to see Jaebeom frowning. "What happened to you?"

"Some shit," Jackson groans, and Jaebeom nods without questioning further. 

"Youngjae?" Jaebeom calls, and a blue haired head peeks through. 

"Jackson-hyung?" Youngjae's voice is laced with worry as he makes his way to the couch, surveying Jackson's wounds. "Give me a minute, I'll go get my supplies."

"Thank you." Jackson nods, and Youngjae disappears into the house. "He's an angel," Jackson then mutters, and Jaebeom lets out a dry laugh.

"Tell me about it—he's an actual saint to stay with me."

Jackson stays quiet, and Jaebeom knows why. Both Jackson and Jaebeom had been con artists, scammers, since birth, and Jaebeom had been lucky enough to meet Youngjae, who helped him.

Youngjae is a doctor, and while Jaebeom had been nothing but a con artist for his entire life, Youngjae took him in, teaching Jaebeom skills so he could stop stealing.

Jackson is happy for Jaebeom, he really is. Jaebeom is like a brother to him, and to see him not involved in crime anymore is a blessing. 

But Jackson isn't so lucky, and this time the trouble he got into was a bit too much.

"I'm leaving," Jackson says, and Jaebeom nods, unfazed.

"How long?"

"Forever?" Jackson sighs, and grimaces in pain. "Shit, I don't know, hyung. It's pretty bad this time."

Youngjae is back with bandages and ointments, letting Jackson wiggle out of his shirt as he surveys the injuries.

"You have a few bad bruises on your stomach and a pretty deep cut on your nose. Nothing seems broken."

Jackson nods, and Youngjae helps cover his nose with a numbing and cooling ointment. He applies some medicine on Jackson's abdomen, wrapping it in bandages and finishes by giving Jackson a few pills.

"There are pretty strong painkillers. Usually I'd suggest resting for a few days before moving but since you're in a rush, I’m giving you a heavier dosage." Jackson nods as Youngjae disappears again after placing a bottle of pills on the table. 

Youngjae helps Jaebeom’s friends without question, no matter who they were. He knows Jackson a bit better, but he doesn't, and didn't want to know any more. It’s better for everyone that way.

"Who is it this time?" Jaebeom asks, biting his lips. Normally he would start smoking, but Youngjae made him quit because as a doctor, it would be embarrassing if his own boyfriend is smoking an early death. 

Jackson closes his eyes. "Milani’s men."

Jaebeom’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Shit, for real?"

Jackson sighs, "I'll have to be gone by tonight. Off the grid for a while."

"Shit," Jaebeom repeats, and Jackson sighs again.

The Milani family is a notorious mafia family, and the fact Jackson had angered them was pretty much worse than a death sentence. 

"Need anything else?" Jaebeom asks, and Jackson shakes his head.

"Lose all contact with me and stay safe, hyung. Take care of Youngjae too." Jackson gets up and grabs the bottle of pills Youngjae had placed for him on the table. “I’ll contact you as soon as it’s safe.”

"Good luck, Jackson." 

Jaebeom brings Jackson in for a hefty hug, and Jackson can’t help but think this is the last time he's going to see the man.

Jackson walks back to his apartment, feeling a bit drowsy from the painkillers. He steps into his room, peeling his dirty clothes off and slipping into a blue silky button-down shirt and black jeans. Trying to fix himself up, Jackson stares at the mirror and runs a hand through his hair.

 _This is goodbye for real,_ he thinks, taking a shaky breath.

He takes a look around his room, deciding to bring the duffle bag of money and leaving the rest of his things.

Now all he needs is a car. An idea forms in his head as he walks out his apartment, and Jackson grins.

  
  
  


Jinyoung is pretty. He knows that, and everyone else knows it too. 

He didn’t do anything with the fact. He didn’t really care. All he wants to do was do his job in peace and so far, it's going okay.

He had a couple of regulars at the salon, and he is making decent pay—enough to survive.

Jinyoung doesn't necessarily want to cut hair forever, and while he doesn't show it, he is waiting for his Prince Charming to come in one day.

So when his manager asked him to work a late shift, he was okay with it as he had enough time.

Jinyoung paces around the salon shop, humming to himself as he sweeps the floors. He glances at the clock.

It’s 8:55 p.m., and there were 5 more minutes until he could go home.

The door suddenly opens, and a man steps in.

Jinyoung turns his head towards the man, and blinks a couple of times. The man is relatively attractive, with a slight beard and broad shoulders. He’s dressed in a suit, holding a briefcase and has a light smile.

“I’m sorry to intrude so late, but are you still open?” The man has a nice, deep voice, and Jinyoung blushes. He appears a gentleman, and for a moment Jinyoung wonders if this is his lucky day.

_A stranger walking into a shop late at night, wooing Jinyoung and—_

“Yes, of course. How can I help you?”

“Just a shave will do,” the man notices Jinyoung’s blush, and he sets his briefcase down, sitting in a chair and closing his eyes.

Jinyoung drapes a plastic cover over the man, holding a razor and spreads shaving cream over the man’s beard. He leans the man backwards as he does. 

“It’s pretty late,” the man mentions, and Jinyoung smiles as he gently scrapes the man’s beard.

“It is, we don’t usually open this late but I had some free time today.”

“Really?” the man’s eyes shift around, landing on Jinyoung. “Just you here?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung replies, stepping closer to the man to angle the razor better.

As he continues to shave the man, he suddenly feels a hand creeping up his leg, reaching his inner thigh—

“What the hell?” Jinyoung lurches back, breaking free of the man’s grasp and the razor falls to the ground.

“Oh come on now,” the man’s smile is sinister now, mocking as he stands up, wiping the rest of the shaving cream off with his sleeve. “You want this, pretty boy.”

“No!” Jinyoung grabs the razor at his feet, holding it with trembling hands as he points it towards the man, who just laughs. “Get away from me!”

“Yes, you do,” the man snarls, knocking the razor out of Jinyoung’s hand easily and grabs him by the shoulders, slamming him against the counter. Jinyoung winces in pain and the man leans closely to his ear. “I saw the way you look at me, slut. Don’t be a tease.”

The man tries to take off Jinyoung’s shirt, almost ripping it as he bites his neck. Jinyoung yells, shoving the man back as he thrashed under his grasp.

“Let go of me!” Jinyoung just knows he wasn’t thinking as he screams and tries to break free, scratching desperately at the man’s face as he tries to kick him. 

The man lets go of him for a moment in pain, and Jinyoung takes the opportunity to push the man back.

The man stumbles back, clutching his face as he trips over a bottle of shaving cream. He slips, hitting his head on the sharp, metal corner of the counter and the next thing Jinyoung sees is red.

Blood slowly pools on the ground near the man’s head, spreading thinner, but still a dark, soaked wine-red.

“No,” Jinyoung whispers, leaning down to check the man’s pulse with trembling fingers. He holds a finger under the man’s nose with the last of his hope.

“No, no, no,” Jinyoung wants to scream and cry, but his voice is caught in his throat as he stares down at the man.

 _I have to clean this up_ , he thinks, grabbing a white towel nearby, kneeling on the ground as the blood seeps into the cloth. _Nobody can know. I have to clean this up._

_Fuck, why is blood so hard to clean?_

“Fuck, fuck,” Jinyoung rarely swears, but he lets out a string of curses as the blood seemed to be only getting messier, staining everywhere as he desperately tries to wipe it off.

He takes off his light, flannel jacket and tries to wipe the blood with it but the fabric only sticks to the jacket, and Jinyoung lets go of it with shaky hands. 

He tries to drag the man’s body away, somewhere other than right in front of him, but the man is heavy and Jinyoung only slips on the blood, his bare legs stained as well. 

Jinyoung stares at his hands, covered in red and he holds his hands to his head, curling up in a ball next to the dead man.

 _I just killed someone_ , he thinks, the horror finally dawning on him. _I just killed someone._

“I just killed someone.” Jinyoung says it out loud, as if trying to wake from a dream. 

He feels sick to his stomach as he watches the blood dry up.

  
  
Mark is suicidal.

He knows that.

He has known since the moment of his first attempt, where he tried to hang himself with a telephone wire.

That didn’t work, as the wire was too short and Mark ended up breaking free, gasping as he’s caught up in the moment of wanting to live and die. 

Since then Mark has tried every single possible way to kill himself.

The worst attempt was when he tried to drown himself in the bath, only to have been rescued by a leak in the tub. He had gotten out, coughing up a lungful of water and snorting out a stream from his nose. Not very attractive, in his opinion. 

Mark takes a hit of his joint, staring at the smoke that blows in the air.

“Fuck,” he says to himself. He wishes the addiction would kill him already, but it did nothing but cause him a headache. Why couldn’t he die so easily?

He hears a knock at his door, and immediately jumps up, throwing his joint to the ground.

It was _them_ again. 

“Open up, Tuan!” Mark hears a voice banging at his door, and he runs to his bedroom, jumping out of his window and landing on a patch of grass.

It was the people from his old cartel.

And the reason for he even had drugs.

Mark wasn’t a born drug user-his parents often used weed around him but nothing else. He had despised drugs, seeing how a bag of white powder left his father dead on the ground and his other disappearing by herself the next day when he was 14 years old.

All they had left was a shitty flat with a few bags of drugs, essentially selling Mark off to a cartel.

Mark became a drug runner at 14 years old, vowing to stay clean.

That had all changed when someone at the cartel drugged him one day, mixing weed into his food as he sat at the table, 16 and swinging his legs, thinking he actually found a place to stay.

Mark never wanted to relive that day.

So here he was, clutching his leg as he stumbled off the grass, limping to a nearby alleyway.

He sees a convenience store nearby, and decides to buy some ramen and drinks.

Mark has bad mood swings.

As Mark finishes purchasing his things, he goes back to his flat, where every drawer and cabinet had been thoroughly rummaged through.

Mark laughs, a hollow, mocking laugh as he sits his groceries down. He barely had any money or drugs left-they weren’t going to get shit out of him.

As Mark unpacks his things, he thinks of an idea. He stares at the plastic bag, and dumps all the contents of the bag out. 

_Fuck it._

Mark wraps the bag around his face, tightening the plastic as he holds his breath. He hopes he’s successful this time. 

  
  
  


Jackson slings the duffle bag over his shoulder, walking to the nearest night club as he tries to avoid suspicion. 

A bit hard to do, considering he did have a bag full of cash.

But Jackson knows the streets and he knows how to store a valuable item without being stolen.

He hides the bag under a pile of abandoned cardboard boxes, dusting off his hands and fixing his shirt.

He strolls into a nightclub, spotting two girls and a Mercedes-Benz key next to them. Smirking, Jackson walks up and spreads his arms over the shoulders of the two girls, acting drunk.

“How’s it going ladies?” Jackson laughs drunkenly, and one of the girls slaps him.

“What the fuck?” The other girl shoves Jackson’s arms off, but Jackson had already snaked his arm around the girl’s shoulder and slipped the keys into his hands.

“Woah, woah,” Jackson pretends to stumble, and saunters off while the two girls yell a string of curses at him.

It was too easy, and it came all too natural to Jackson. 

Once he’s out of the club, he sprints to the duffel bag and grabs it, running to the garage near the club. It didn’t take long for Jackson to find the car, and once he did he threw the bag of money into the trunk.

He starts the car, grinning as he checks the time

9:10 p.m. 

Perfect. 

The gang should be by Jackson’s apartment by now, and Jackson sped off.

As Jackson drives down a dark road, he looks behind him, making sure there is nobody behind him. He turns back around to the seat, and lurches forward as he slams on the breaks.

Jackson bumps his head against the steering wheel, and when he looks up again he sees a dark figure ahead of him.

The figure is a boy, looking around Jackson’s age, and his chest, arms, and legs are covered in red. He stares at the headlights of Jackson's car, unmoving with a stunned expression.

Jackson gets out of the car slowly, taking a closer look at the boy.

“Hello? Are you okay?” Jackson asks hesitantly, and the boy flinches, turning away. 

“Wait!” Jackson calls, and the boy freezes. “I’m not going to call the police or anything,”

The boy turns back, eyes wary as he stares at Jackson. 

“I’m Jackson,” Jackson doesn’t know why he’s helping the boy. “What’s your name?”

The boy pauses, and finally speaks, his voice trembling as he does, “Jinyoung.”

Jackson nods, looking around. He puts a hand behind his neck, glancing at Jinyoung again. “I’m leaving the city. Do you want to come?”

Jinyoung is hesitant as he looks at Jackson with wary eyes, and Jackson sighs. “Look, I stole this car-”Jinyoung’s eyes widen-”and I’m running away from this dangerous gang I stole from as well. I’m kind of in a time crunch here so if you’d like to come-”

“I’m coming,” Jinyoung says, and within a second he was in the passenger seat.

“Well okay then,” Jackson mutters to himself, getting into the driver’s seat again.

The ride is silent as Jinyoung stares down at his hands, and Jackson confirms it’s the smell of blood. He sighs, picking up a white towel and hands it to Jinyoung without looking at him. Jinyoung looks up, and takes the white towel as he mutters thanks. He scrubs his hands, chest, legs, and fingers clean, his skin pink and sensitive and the towel a brown, nasty color by the time he finishes.

“You doing okay?” It’s the first time Jackson speaks to the boy, and he notices Jinyoung stiffens.

“Not really.”

Jackson doesn’t push it, humming as he keeps driving. This wasn’t exactly how he planned his night to turn it out, but fuck it. The night was young, right?

  
  
  


Mark gasps for air as he tears a hole in the plastic on his face. He bends over, inhaling as much as he can without choking and throws the bag down.

He then slaps himself, leaning back against the counter as he curses himself. He's chickened out at the last moment _again_. 

He glances out his window-it's dark already. 

“Fuck,” Mark rubs his temples, slipping off his kitchen counter and making his way to his couch. He lights up a joint, exhaling the smoke and watching it cloud his face, too high to care. He walks to his mirror, rummaging through the drawers below it and finding a lipstick, long expired. It’s from when his mom was still alive, and with disgust, Mark draws a smiley face on the mirror with crossed out eyes, crushing the red, waxy stick with every mark.

He decides to go outside, stumbling on the road as a few people walk by, clearly avoiding him. He stops at a light, looking at the mostly empty road.

An idea comes to him, and he almost wants to laugh at his stupidity. Why hadn’t he tried this before?

 _If i die high, it won’t be so bad_ , Mark thinks as he closes his eyes, waiting for a car to come by.

_It’s like a metaphor or something for my life._

He snaps his eyes open as he hears a car speeding, and he closes his eyes again, stepping off the curb and prepares to get-

_Thump!_

Mark’s breath is knocked out of his lungs as he rolls on the ground. He tries to open his eyes, but he can’t move. His entire body hurts, and he’s sure it’ll be sore when he wakes up tomorrow.

Then the realization dawned him.

Mark isn't dead.

Mark wants to laugh if he could, and he groans, trying to get up. 

“What the fuck?”

Mark tries to turn his head to the voice, and he sees a nice, expensive white car.

 _Oh fuck,_ Mark wasn’t about to be accused of scamming and he slowly gets up on one knee.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The voice yells again, and Mark turns around to see a man in a silk shirt, with another man in a white t-shirt and shorts getting out of the car. Mark winces, and he tries to run before the man in the silk shirt grabs him by the collar, throwing a punch to his face.

Mark stumbles, before the man grabs him again. “What the hell were you thinking? Jumping in front of a moving car were you trying to get yourself killed?”

Mark tries to answer, but he just barks out a laugh.

The man growls, hitting him harder. “You think this is a joke or something?”

“Jackson,” Mark hears a softer voice, this time from the other man. “You’ll kill him.”

“Let go,” the man who was hitting him-Jackson-says, and the other man steps back, pursing his lips.

This was hilarious, Mark thinks as he laughs harder, throwing his head back. He was trying to get himself killed and now here he is, getting beat up by a person that wanted to kill him. Maybe it would all work out in the end and Jackson _would_ kill him.

Jackson suddenly lets go of Mark, and Mark spits out a glob of blood, looking up at Jackson with hazy eyes.

“He’s high,” Jackson says, and the other man frowns. “He’s fucking out of it.”

Mark craws up on one knee, his body shaking as he laughs loudly, stumbling away. 

Another attempt failed.

“Hey!” Mark doesn’t get too far before he hears Jackson’s voice, and he turns around.

“Get in.”

The next thing Mark knows is he’s in the backseat of their car, staring at the two men with unfocused eyes.

_What the hell is going on?_

Jinyoung doesn’t know what’s going on.

One moment he’s stumbling out of the salon, gasping for air as he tugs an unstained jacket on and the next he’s in Jackson’s car, cleaning the blood off of him as he listens to the hum of the engine.

Jackson is quiet, leaving Jinyoung alone and Jinyoung is glad. He has no idea who Jackson was, why he’s driving a stolen car, or what he’s running away from. He doesn’t even know if Jackson truly wants to help him but Jinyoung doesn’t care at this point.

Suddenly, Jackson slams on the breaks and Jinyoung feels the seat belt tighten around his chest as he’s jerked forward.

“What…?” Jinyoung doesn’t get the time to ask a question before Jackson is out of his car, slamming the door as he yells.

“What the fuck?”

Jinyoung groans, rubbing his head and getting out of the car as well. In front of him, he sees a body laying on the ground where the car had hit him slightly. 

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung mutters, mostly to himself. “Is he dead?”

He didn’t want to commit two murders in one night.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jackson yells again, making his way to the figure, that was now trying to get up on one knee. He didn’t look very hurt, just dazed as he got up.

It’s not long before the stranger is back on the ground, with Jackson throwing a heavy punch to his face. “What the hell were you thinking? Jumping in front of a moving car were you trying to get yourself killed?” Jackson doesn’t stop talking as he throws more punches, and Jinyoung sees the man’s lip burst. 

To their surprise, the man just laughs, throwing his blond head back while his body shook.

Jackson growls, hitting the man in the stomach. “You think this is a joke or something?”

The man doubles over, choking out a few laughs as he spits out a glob of blood, staining his teeth.

“Jackson,” Jinyoung lays a hand on Jackson’s arm gently. “You’ll kill him.”

“Let go,” Jackson’s voice is not harsh as he throws Jinyoung’s hand off, and Jinyoung steps back, pursing his lips.

Suddenly, Jackson stops and the stranger looks up at Jackson, a lazy smile on his face. He spits out another glob of blood, stumbling away.

“Jackson,” Jinyoung glances over at the man, who has his brows knitted.

“He’s high,” Jackson says, and Jinyoung frowns as well. “He’s fucking out of it.”

“We should help him,” Jinyoung says, and Jackson widens his eyes. Jinyoung holds up his hands. “Please? You helped me, right?”

“I helped you because-” Jackson pauses, then sighs. “Fine.”

He turns to the stranger that was still stumbling away with broken laughs. 

“Hey!” The stranger turns towards Jackson, “Get in.”

Jinyoung smiles, and Jackson pretends to ignore him, mumbling something to himself.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung whispers, and Jackson rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” Jackson helps the stranger get into the backseat, and they’re off driving again into the night.

The stranger looks at Jinyoung and Jackson, raising an eyebrow. “Are you two a thing or something?”

Jinyoung blushes, and Jackson rolls his eyes. “We met like, an hour ago.”

“Oh,” the stranger blinks for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?’

“No, you’re good,” Jinyoung sighs, “We’re kind of running away from the city, if that’s okay.”

“Oh,” the stranger pauses again. “Cool, I guess.”

There’s a few moments of silence and the stranger speaks up. “I’m Mark.”

“I’m Jinyoung, this is Jackson,” Jinyoung turns back around, giving a small smile.

“Cool.” Mark doesn’t talk too much, and he leans back into the seat. “Why are you guys running away?”

“Well,” Jackson glances at Jinyoung, who stares at the window again. “I kind of angered a gang and stole from them-stole this car actually too-and if I don’t get out I’m dead by tomorrow.”

“Wow,” Mark stares at Jackson. 

“I killed someone,” Jinyoung says, and he feels Mark’s gaze trained on him.

“ _Wow_ ,” Mark breathes, exhaling deeply. “That’s unexpected, coming from you.”

“How come?” Jinyoung frowns, turning back to Mark.

“Well, you look like a good kid,” Mark studies Jinyoung with a tilt of his head. “A normal, good kid. Unlike Jackson—” he jerks his thumb towards the other man, ”—he looks like a real troublemaker.” 

“I’m 22,” Jinyoung huffs, and Jackson raises an eyebrow. 

“For real? Me too.”

“I’m 24,” Mark sighs, letting his head droop. “I wish I hadn’t made it past 22.” He mutters to himself, but Jinyoung hears.

“Why’d you kill them?” Mark asks, and Jinyoung stiffens.

“Hey,” Jackson throws a glare at Mark, and Jinyoung shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung traces the leather of his seat. “I was working at my job-a hair salon-and this guy walks in. It was pretty late, so I was the only one there and when I was cutting his hair he-” Jinyoung takes a shaky breath, and both Jackson and Mark rush to speak.

“Hey, it’s ok if you don’t want to tell us,” Mark says, and for once he seems clear-headed. “Don’t force yourself,” Jackson says, and Jinyoung shakes his head again.

“He didn’t do anything too bad, just bit me,” Jinyoung’s hand brushes over the bite marks as he blinks out tears. “And I pushed him and he fell. But It was-it was an accident, I swear!”

“Hey, hey,” Jackson pulls over, stopping the car as he lay a gentle hand on Jinyoung’ s back. “You were just defending yourself. Honestly the guy deserved it but it’s not your fault, okay?”

Mark reaches a hand to pat Jinyoung’s hair, and Jinyoung blinks in surprise. “It’s not your fault, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung takes a few shuddering breaths as he calms down, drying the tears with his hands. “You know what’s pathetic?” He gives a hollow laugh. “I really thought the guy was polite and handsome and I wanted his number.” He shakes his head, “I’m really a stupid, hopeless romantic. That’s going to get me killed one day.”

“You’re not stupid,” Mark says and Jinyoung raises his eyebrows at the seemingly sober man. “So what if you’re romantic? That’s not your fault, and people should appreciate it instead of taking advantage of it.”

There’s a few moments of silence before Jinyoung laugh, and Jackson looks at him incredulously. “Not you too, Jinyoung.”

“I just-” Jinyoung giggles, “I just didn’t expect you’d say something like that, Mark.”

Mark looks at them sheepishly, rubbing his neck with one hand. “Well, a lot of unexpected things happened today. And I’m high as fuck right now.”

Jackson sighs, and Jinyoung laughs some more. “At least you feel better, right?”

Jinyoung nods, giving a small smile. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Such good manners,” Mark mutters and Jinyoung scoffs.

“What about it?’

“Nothing,” Mark leans back, staring up. “You’re a good kid.”

“Not a kid.”

“Guys,” Jackson speaks up, “Not to alarm you or anything, but we kind of have to abandon this car tomorrow.”

Mark and Jinyoung hum, and Jackson sighs. “I guessed you guys wouldn’t really care, but I was hoping to be cool.”

“Wong people,” Mark says, giving a yawn as Jinyoung laughs again.

“Anyways, what’s up with you, troublemaker?” Mark looks at Jackson, and Jackson raises an eyebrow. “I feel like we’re similar.”

"I have a stealing addiction and you have a drug addiction." Jackson says casually, and somehow the words don't seem to offend Mark when coming from his mouth. 

"Then what do I have?" Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, watching Jackson and Mark exchange a glance. 

"Umm," Mark looks up at the ceiling, "an addiction to being a good person?"

"Boring," Jinyoung deadpans, and Jackson laughs.

"Sorry, I'm high as fuck right now," Mark repeats, sighing as he laid down on the backseat of the car. “Can’t think anymore.”

"It's getting late, should we stop tonight?" Jinyoung asks, and Jackson nods.

"Do you guys mind sleeping in the car?"

Mark is already drifting off to sleep, and Jinyoung smiles tiredly.

"We need some money for tomorrow," Jinyoung says, and Jackson grins. 

"Don't sorry about that," Jackson's voice, Jinyoung thinks, is comforting.

Jinyoung was too tired to ask him to elaborate, and just nodded, closing his eyes and instantly drifting off to sleep as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated :)


	2. the first 48 hours: a trip to the club and some secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry for not updating for over a month (?) and thank you for being patient! 
> 
> enjoy the chapter!

Jackson wakes up first in the morning, and he peers at Jinyoung sleeping in the passenger seat, his head against the window and Mark laying in the backseat. Somehow, Jackson doesn’t hate it.

He starts the engine quietly, speeding off from the place they had stayed at and finding a gas station. 

During the drive, Mark wakes up, sitting up from the seats.

“Seatbelt.” 

“Hmm?” Mark squints at him, voice deep and scratchy from sleep.

“Seatbelt, hyung,” Jackson says again. “I don’t want you to die within 24 hours of knowing you.”

Jackson doesn't know where the sudden familiarity and order comes from, but he's somehow okay with it. 

“Thanks,” Mark huffs, but puts on his seatbelt.

There’s a moment of silence, and Mark speaks up. 

“You like him?”

“Huh?”

Mark nods towards Jinyoung, still sleeping in the passenger seat and Jackson scoffs. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re whipped for him,” Mark rolls his eyes, “Anyone can tell.”

Jinyoung stirs in his sleep, and Jackson sends a glare towards Mark, shushing him.

Mark shrugs, closing his eyes and going back to sleep. Jackson blows out a puff of air between his lips, fidgeting with the steering wheel.

Mark’s words echoes around in his head, and Jackson quickly shakes it off, stopping at a gas station. 

Does he like Jinyoung? He's not sure. He only met the man yesterday, and has known him less than 24 hours. 

Somehow, Jackson feels the same pull with Jinyoung as he does with Mark, even though he did hate the latter for a while. And a while in this case means 1 hour. 

Jackson shakes his head again. He really is going insane.

Jackson pulls up to a gas station, parking at a spot to pump gas.

“Wake Jinyoung up when I get back-we need to switch cars soon,” Jackson said, and Mark gave a nod.

Jackson walks into the convenience store, pulling out a couple of dollar bills as he paid for the gas. The cashier is a bored teenager, texting on her phone as she prints out the receipt, never looking at Jackson or anywhere else.

When Jackson is back at the car, Jinyoung and Mark are standing outside of the seats, Jinyoung sitting on the trunk of the car as Mark leans beside him. The two are chatting and when Jinyoung laughs at something Mark says, Jackson feels a pang of jealousy. But he doesn’t know for who.

“Jackson!” Jinyoung looks better than the night before, and Jackson realizes Jinyoung is even prettier in the sunlight. He’s wearing a bright smile as Mark talks. Mark’s blond hair is all messed up, but Jackson somehow thinks it’s endearing.

Jackson gently nudges Jinyoung off the trunk, and opens it.

“Holy shit.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, and Jinyoung stares, wide-eyed.

Inside, there’s a duffel bag full of raw cash.

“Come on,” Jackson says, zipping the bag up, tossing it to Mark. “We gotta switch cars. I’ll go steal one, you two just wait for me”

“‘Mkay,” Mark takes the duffel bag from Jackson, slinging it over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Be careful,” Jinyoung takes Jackson's arm, squeezing it before letting go.

Jackson grins, “Don’t worry.”

Jackson surveys the area, spotting a car nearby. It’s a vintage-looking Chevy, and the owner, a young adult, steps out. 

Jackson walks over casually, peering at the car as he smiles at the man. “Hey, mind if I take a look at your car?”

The man looks at Jackson warily, “Why?”

“Well, my grandfather’s actually a huge fan of vintage cars, and I’ve been looking for one like this forever,” Jackson answers without missing a beat, “It would really mean a lot if I could take some pictures and send it to him.”

“Oh,” The man says, his voice softening. “Yes, of course, go ahead.”

“Thank you so much,” Jackson smiles again, closing in a distance with the man as he shakes his hand. The man stumbles back a little in surprise, and ends up shaking Jackson’s hand. “It really, really, means a lot.”

“Yes, take your time,” The man turns, walking in the convenience store.

Jackson glances at Mark and Jinyoung, shaking a pair of keys discreetly with one hand. Mark and Jinyoung rush to the car, and Jakcson takes a stack of bills from the duffel bag and throws it to the ground.

“An apology,” Jackson says, before starting the engine and speeding out of the parking lot. Outside, he could hear the man running out and yelling.

“Go, go, go!” Mark laughs as he leans forward, watching Jackson run a few red lights.

“Careful!” Jinyoung yells as Jackson almost crashes into another car, before taking a sharp corner. 

As they speed off on the highway, there’s a moment of silence, before the three start laughing.

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung says, his voice hoarse from yelling, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“You got the money, Mark?” Jackson asks, and Mark holds up the duffel bag, revealing a hefty amount of cash wrapped up.

“Nice of you to give that man some.”

“Not nice, just payment.”

“He’s gonna have trust issues the rest of his life,” Mark says, leaning back into the seat as he rummages through the money in the bag.

“With a couple thousand dollars.” Jackson says nonchalantly.

“Sure.” Mark replies, zipping up the duffel bag. “Where we going next?”

“I want to make a stop to visit someone,” Jackson says, “And then, wherever we want.”

“I want to go to the beach,” Jinyoung suddenly says, and Jackson blinks in surprise. 

“We can do that.”

“I don’t really care where we go,” Mark says, folding his arms over his chest as he closes his eyes. “Just as long as we have fun.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jackson speaks up again.

“You guys like clubs?”

Jinyoung has never been one for clubs, but he can tell Jackson and Mark are, from the way they saunter in, grabbing random bottles of alcohol. 

“My friends run this club,” Jackson shouts over the noise of the booming music and drunk dancing club-goers. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen them.” 

Jinyoung can only nod as he tries to maneuver his way through the crowds of sweaty people, some already half-conscious on the dancefloor and some grinding against each other.

A pair of hands grab Jinyoung’s arm, and Jinyoung recoils, but not before Jackson slaps the hand away and Mark rushes in front of Jinyoung, glaring at the person while holding a protective arm against him.

The man who grabbed Jinyoung steps back, hands up with a defeated expression. Jinyoung thinks how funny it is that the two men he just met yesterday were more protective of him than anyone he has ever known.

“You okay?” Mark’s voice is low in his ear, and Jinyoung nods. He sees Jackson throw a look at the two of them, then pulls them both by the shoulders forward to a room nearby, labeled “VIP”.

A man in a suit and dark sunglasses stops them. “Your ID, sir?”

“Tell your boss it’s Jackson.” Jackson says breezily, singling his arms around Jinyoung and Mark.

The man throws a skeptical glance at the three, before speaking into his small mic. 

It takes a minute before a young man with platinum hair walks out of the room, with a much taller, but equally young man trailing behind. The latter had bright mustard yellow hair, styled with gel. Jinyoung thinks back to his old job at the hair salon, and thanks god for never letting him deal with a dye job. 

“Jackson-hyung!” The young man, who Jinyoung assumes to be the club owner, dabs Jackson up, nodding at Jinyoung and Mark. “How’s it going, man?”

“Been busy,” Jackson says, and Jinyoung rolls his eyes at the understatement. “How are you and Yugyeom?”

“Been alright,” The club owner smiles, while the man behind him nods at Jackson. 

"This is Bambam and Yugyeom," Jackson smiles, "Bam, this is Jinyoung and Mark-hyung."

"Friends of yours?" Bambam grins, shaking Jinyoung and Mark's hand as Yugyeom's expression relaxes significantly, now smiling at both of them. 

Jackson hums, and Bambam quickly lets them in the room. 

Jinyoung decides that he has never seen anything more luxurious than the inside of a V.I.P. club room. There’s an open bar, with bottles upon bottles of alcohol. The sofa is black and red velvet, the fabric sinking when sat on. There’s also a smoking area, and while Jinyoung doesn’t understand the basics of smoking he sees enough to ensure they were high quality. 

"How long are you guys planning to stay?" Bambam asks, and Jackson sighs. 

"Just tonight. I got myself into a lil trouble with the Milani family."

Bambam's eyes widen, making eye contact with Yugyeom. 

"Dude, you serious? That's some pretty deep shit."

Jackson shrugs, taking a swig of the bottle of vodka. "Jaebeom-hyung said the same thing."

"JB-hyung's right." It's the first time Jinyoung hears Yugyeom talk, and he watches as the tall boy leans forward. "You know what happens to people that anger him right?"

"Are Jinyoung-hyung and Mark-hyung aware?" Bambam asks, as Jackson glances up from his bottle. 

"Well…" Jackson starts, and Mark cuts him off. 

"We're running away from some stuff too," Mark says, setting down his bottle as he looks at Jinyoung. 

"That's right," Jinyoung says softly, looking back at Mark and Jackson. "We're willing to follow Jackson."

Bambam blinks slowly, running a hand through his hair. He finally settled on sighing, and pushing three black cards towards them. "Shit, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." He stands up, saying something to the security guard. "Enjoy your night here, I'll set you guys up with hotel rooms for tonight, and money will be transferred to Jackson-hyung's account."

Jackson nods, "Thank you. Seriously, Bam, you're doing so much more than you need to."

Bambam waves his hand dismissively. "You helped me a lot before, when I had nothing. You're a good person, hyung. You deserve it."

Jackson smiles wryly. "Debatable, but thanks anyways. You and Yugyeom take care."

Bambam and Yugyeum exit the room, leaving Jinyoung, Jackson, and Mark alone. 

"Sorry about this." Jackson sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

Mark laughs, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. "About what? Dragging us into your escape plan? You helped us, Jackson, we’re not just going to ditch you mid-way."

Jinyoung smiles, and looks at the two men. He doesn't know when he started to become fond of them, but it seems impossible to leave them now. If he believed in fate, he would’ve thought it was fate, or something. 

"We'll follow you anywhere if you want, Jackson." Jinyoung says. 

"I'll hold you to that," Jackson pours some shots, holding one for Jinyoung and one for Mark. "Cheers?"

Jinyoung isn't one for alcohol, and he knows he could have said no, but he finds himself downing a shot, feeling the hot liquor burn throughout his mouth and lungs. 

"First time?" He hears Mark's voice, and nods weakly.

"Don't force yourself," Jackson's face comes into view, and Jinyoung squints. Jinyoung doesn't know whether it's the alcohol, but he feels his face burning. 

Has Jackson always been this attractive? 

Now that Jinyoung thinks about it, it's really the first time he's been able to see Jackson up close for a time period. 

"Hey," Jackson holds Jinyoung as he stumbles, "Careful."

"You're hot." Jinyoung blurts out before he can stop himself, and this time he feels himself turn red as Jackson blinks slowly. 

"Thanks," Jackson laughs gently, and Jinyoung stares up at him in wonder. Jackson looks so much better when he isn't frowning. 

"One shot and he's already out," Out of the corner of Jinyoung's eye, he sees Mark shake his head as he lights a pre-rolled up joint. "I'm almost jealous."

As if on cue, Jinyoung, to his own surprise, giggles and falls onto the couch next to Mark, who raises his eyebrows. "You're so funny, Mark." Jinyoung draws out Mark’s name, resting his arms on the edge of the sofa. 

“Nevermind, I am jealous.” Mark laughs lightly, and Jinyoung thinks Mark looks much younger when he does. Jackson joins them on the sofa as well, having abandoned his drink from earlier and is now taking several shots as Mark blows clouds of smoke in the air. 

Jinyoung takes a deep breath, taking in the smell of the sweet smoke and strong alcohol. Normally, he would hate this but today, he likes it.

“Smells good,” Jinyoung can barely think as he takes another shot (which was not exactly the best idea), and collapses onto the couch, head now on Jackson’s lap. 

“What does?” Jackson’s voice is deep, and Jinyoung looks up to see a spinning version of Jackson’s face.

“You?” Jinyoung breathes, sitting up and pulling Jackson’s face in to take a better look, hoping the room would stay still for a moment.

He feels Jackson’s hands around his waist, then feels the absence of them as Jackson looks away. In his drunk haze, Jinyoung is suddenly aware of the position he’s in. He’s sitting on Jackson’s lap and his hands are cupped around the other man’s cheeks.

Besides him, he hears Mark whistle and he turns to the older man, who’s holding the joint between his fingers and wearing a lazy smirk as he watches them.

He vaguely hears conversation between the two, then hears himself talk. Before Jinyoung knows it, he’s on the dance floor outside, with Mark and Jackson on either side of him as he allows himself to get lost in the booming bass. 

Jackson keeps a respectable distance from Jinyoung as he faces him, his hands barely grazing his sides. Mark is right behind, keeping a distance as well as he takes a hit of his joint, one hand gently placed on Jinyoung’s back. 

Somewhere between the music and flashing lights, Jinyoung feels himself lifted, his head hitting a hard chest.

Jinyoung doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knows he’s in a hotel room, sheets pulled up to his chin and in a bed, alone. 

His head is pounding, and he looks over to the bedside table to see a couple of painkillers, water, and an energy drink. Sighing, he rubs his temples and takes the pills, looking around his room. It’s a nice hotel room-probably really expensive too. 

The sheets are white, and Jinyoung recoils as he draws back the curtains, the bright rays of sunshine blinding him momentarily. The view outside is nice too; it’s a stretch of the city with nice, glass buildings all around. 

Jinyoung sighs, leaning against his window. 

_ This is probably the nicest view I’ll ever get in a lifetime.  _ His dreams of being a main lead in a CEO romance drama seems like a million years ago. 

Jinyoung walks to the bathroom, yawning as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s taken by surprise at what he sees. His hair is completely disheveled, he has dark circles under his eyes, and his skin is pale.

Suddenly remembering the events of the previous night, his face goes completely red and he buries his face in his hands. What the actual hell was he thinking last night? God, Jackson and Mark must have found him so weird, and they probably hated him now. Jinyoung wished he was a forgetting drunk. 

“I’m never drinking again,” Jinyoung groans, before splashing his face with cold water.

Jackson is surprisingly not drunk after half a bottle of vodka and a few shots. He knows his limits, and with Jinyoung getting completely plastered and Mark getting so high he can’t speak, Jackson knows it’s his time to take care of them.

He prides himself in his alcohol tolerance for a second, then sighs as he carries the two men out of the club (one on each shoulder) and settles into the car Bambam sent.

The driver speeds off to the hotel, and Jackosn sighs again as he lets Mark drool on his shirt, nuzzling like a cat into his shoulder, and lets Jinyoung lay his head on his lap, his mouth slightly open as he sleeps soundly. 

Mark mutters something, and Jackson turns to look at the older man. 

"... don't." 

Jackson frowns, lifting Mark's head gently to look at his face. Mark is pale, his lips slightly trembling as he squeezes his eyes shut, clutching at Jackson's shirt as he shakes his head repeatedly. 

"Hyung?" Jackson whispers, only to have Mark shake his head harder. Jackson lets Mark fist his shirt, digging his nails into Jackson's skin. He raises a hand to Mark's cheek, only to have Mark shrink away. Jackson settles for Mark to lean on his shoulder again, feeling the shaky breaths of Mark. 

Mark finally stops moving, and his breaths become quieter as he falls fast asleep as well. 

Meanwhile, Jinyoung shifts in Jackson's lap, curling up with his arms folded under his head. 

Jackson sighs the third time that night. 

He doesn't know why he's helping them, but it feels right. Somehow, they were going to make it out of this mess. 

The next morning, he makes a stop by Mark’s and two stops by Jinyoung’s. When he knocks on Jinyoung’s door for the second time, the man is already awake, freshened up and avoiding eye contact with Jackson. 

Jackson doesn’t mention the events of last night, and ignores Jinyoung’s cautious peeks.

“Did you sleep well?”

Jinyoung hums. “It’s a nice hotel. I don’t think I’ve ever slept on a better bed.”

Jackson nods, handing Jinyoung a piece of paper.

“This fell out of your jacket pocket yesterday. It looked important.”

Jinyoung takes the piece of paper, scanning over it quickly and huffing once he finishes reading. He crumples it up and tosses it in the trash can, and Jackson raises an eyebrow. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jinyoung sighs, sinking onto his bed. “I’ll explain sometimes later. Not right now.”

Jackson decides not to pry-he's no stranger to secrets and he knows the feeling of frustration of being persistently annoyed at unwanted questions. 

“Mark is probably awake by now,” Jackson looks around the hotel hallway, “Let’s meet him. We have to go.”

Jinyoung nods, packing some clothes and toiletries in a bag before shutting the door behind him.

Jackson wonders what else Jinyoung is hiding. 

When Mark wakes up, he wakes up alone in a hotel room. He’s used to the pounding headaches of weed and alcohol, but he’s surprised he didn’t wake up with anyone.

It’s barely a minute before images of last night start flashing through his mind. 

Jinyoung sitting on Jackson’s lap, Jinyoung dancing between them, Jackson taking them back to their room, surprisingly not as drunk as the other two. 

He gets up, pouring himself a glass of water and freshens up in the ridiculously large bathroom. It’s a really nice hotel room, and Mark wonders when was the last time he had slept in such a nice bed.

He looks at the closet, finding fresh clothes from expensive brands and scoffs, changing into them. He didn’t know who this Bambam was, or what he even did, but he appreciated what the boy did for them. 

It’s not Mark’s first time dealing with illegal shit, and while he doesn’t know what Jackson did to help Bambam, he shivers thinking about the possibilities. 

A knock at his door shakes him out of his thoughts, and he opens the door to reveal a straight-faced Jackson.

“‘Morning.” Jackson says, handing him a bottle of pills and an energy drink. “I stopped by Jinyoung’s room already-he’s not up yet.”

“Ah,” Mark replies, taking a painkiller. “Thank you. And let him sleep in -it was his first time drinking that much. That’s always rough.”

“Tell me about it,” Jackson laughs drily, and Mark motions for him to step in. 

“Ever been high before?” Mark asks, and Jackson nods. Mark pours another glass of water, handing it to Jackson. 

“Don’t like it though. Had to do it for a job once.” Jackson takes a sip of water as he takes a seat on the sofa near the bed. 

"Wish I could say the same," Mark mutters, sitting back on the bed. 

The two men sit in silence for a while, before Mark sighs. 

"So about last night," he starts, and Jackson groans. 

"Don't remind me." Jackson puts his hands on his head, rubbing his temples. "I almost lost it."

"You're fine," Mark says, laughing slightly. "You didn't do anything."

" _ We _ didn't do anything."

"We?" Mark raises an eyebrow, and Jackson does the same back to him. 

"I'm not  _ that _ dense-I see the way you look at him."

"To be fair, everyone last night was looking at him," Mark argues, trying to appear calm as his inner panic starts. 

Mark thought that he hid his feelings pretty well, and he never would've guessed the densest person in the group found him out. 

"What  _ did _ you want to do last night?" Mark decided to prod at Jackson more, leaning onto the bed as he watches the younger man shift in his seat. Maybe it's because Jackson's hit a weak spot in him and he wants to piss him off because Mark knows he's selfish like that. 

"Fuck, I don't know?" To Mark's surprise, Jackson answers without a hint of animosity. "But anything I wanted to do with him, I wanted us to be sober."

"Sober." Mark repeats, then shakes his head. "I don't think that's possible for me anymore."

"Mark-hyung, do you want to quit?" 

Jackson's question takes Mark by surprise, and Mark almost wants to laugh. 

"Can I?" He whispers, his lips turning up in a wry smile. 

"We can help you," Jackson says, and Mark feels like he's high again when he thinks there's a trace of gentleness in Jackson's voice. The same type of gentleness he gives to Jinyoung. 

"I'll think about it." Mark finally says, and Jackson nods. 

"Irs just-" Jackson pauses, then sighs. "Look, I'm really shitty at helping people emotionally but both me-me and Jinyoung-we don't want to see you die. At least not soon."

Mark stays silent for a bit, before Jackson sighs again. 

"I'll go check up on Jinyoung."

"Jackson?" Jackson pauses at the door. 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Mark runs a hand through his hair, sighing at the deadness of his bleached roots. "Seriously."

"No need," Jackson's voice is rough as he closes the door. "We should all help each other."

Jackson leaves Mark to sit and ponder on his bed. 

Mark wonders if it would be enough to jump out the window. And if the hotel had weed. 

Only his second question is answered, and that answer is no. At least if you’re an average hotel guest, and Bambam’s guests were not treated like the typical guest. 

Mark blows a gust of smoke in the air on his bed. It’s a familiar sense of deja vu.

There’s knock at his door again, and he stumbles to the door, opening up to Jackson and Jinyoung. 

Jackson doesn’t mention how Mark is high already, and Jinyoung looks into his room.

“I didn’t know this hotel served marijuana.”

“I didn’t know either.”

There’s an awkward silence in the room before Mark steps out of the room, blowing into his half-smoked blunt and discarding it on the ashtray. 

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated :)


	3. let the ocean wash away our sins (and salt the earth beneath us)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas and happy holidays! it’s been a while since ii’ve updated and i hope you enjoy!

Abandoning the car (again) they stole, Jackson uses one of Bambam’s unlicensed cars. The young man had given them one last good-bye gift each, and Jackson appreciates the fact he’s at least armed now. 

“Jinyoung-hyung,” Bambam turns to the said man, flashing something on a phone for him to see. “Lucky or not, someone in town helped you cover the...incident. The security cameras have all been disabled, and all the files have been corrupted. Apparently that guy had several sexual assault charges against him, and the police don’t want to investigate any further. However, your disappearance has also been swept under the rug because of this case.”

Jinyoung nods, not seeming too fazed from the news Bambam gives. “It’s for the better, I guess.”

“I suppose.” Bambam shrugs, handing the phone to Jinyoung. “Oh, and about your mother-“

“I know. “ Jinyoung cuts him off firmly, and Jackson glances at the man. 

Bambam exchanges a look with Yugyeom, and nods again. “Alright. We’ve gotten her treatment started, just do you know.”

Jinyoung purses his lips, nodding a quick thanks. 

Yugyeom turns to Mark, who still looks half asleep as he leans by the car door.

“Mark-hyung, that cartel you were part of, they’re taken care of now. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Mark raises an eyebrow in question, standing upright for once. “For real?”

Yugyeom nods in response, and Mark laughs drily. 

“They’re one of the biggest cartels in the city, and you got rid of them overnight? Just like that?”

“We did some research.” Bambam says cooly, “Any friends of Jackson won’t be allowed to be harmed, and we’re really good at revenge. Plus, we used to buy from them and they have a bad habit of stealing. They had it coming.”

Mark nods slowly, huffing out a slow laugh as he palms his face with his hand. “Thanks.”

Bambam nods, patting Mark on the shoulder. “You’re good.”

Jackson overhears the entire conversation, and he knows this’ll be another point of discussion for later, but he keeps quiet for now. 

Bambam finally turns to face Jackson, and Jackson knows the kid well enough to guess he was on the verge of tears. 

_He’s still the same,_ Jackson smiles as Bambam gathers his composure. 

“I’m hoping to see you in the future, hyung.” Bambam says, and Jackson nods. Bambam’s words are careful and vague, and Jackson knows that’s the best promise he can make. “We’ve deterred Milani’s men as much as we can, but it’s better to be out of state as soon as you can.”

Yugyeom just nods in response, patting Jackson on the back as Bambam turns away. 

Jackson doesn’t like the sense of deja vu he gets from Jaebeom and Youngjae. It feels like a final goodbye. 

Jackson hopes to see them all again. 

The car ride is silent as Jinyoung stares at the window, Mark sleeps in the backseat, and Jackson taps his fingers against the steering wheel as they pass by the last signs of the city. Jackson’s almost used to this. 

The entire morning, Jinyoung hadn’t been able to make eye contact with Jackson. It makes Jackson frustrated, as while he doesn’t want to force Jinyoung to talk about last night, he desperately wants to have an answer. 

Jinyoung sighs, and finally looks at Jackson. 

“We should talk.”

Jackson nods, clearing his throat as he sneaks a glance at Jinyoung. 

“Look, I’m sorry about last night,” Jinyoung starts, and Jackson's heart drops. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid and drank that much. I probably made you uncomfortable.”

“No.” Jackson shakes his head, almost swerving into oncoming traffic as he looks at Jinyoung. “No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything.” 

Jinyoung raises a brow skeptically, “Really? Because, I remember you wouldn’t even look at me last night. Or this morning.”

“What-” Jackson sighs, “No. well yes, I couldn’t look at you because-” Jackson swallows, unable to make eye contact again as he spits out, “-because I was afraid I’d do something to you.”

There’s a silence in the car, before Jinyoung bursts out laughing. Well, at least Jackson thinks it’s laughter until he sees Jinyoung blink a tear away at the corner of his eyes.

“What-I’m sorry-” Jackson says, quickly the car pulling over as he turns to Jinyoung. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? Jinyoung, talk to me.”

“No, no,” Jinyoung sniffles between giggles, “It’s just-god, I didn’t expect that.”

“You say that a lot.”

Jackson and Jinyoung both turn backwards to look at Mark, who was mid-yawn and stretching. 

“You’re up?”

“Well, how could I not be when Jinyoung’s crying and laughing like that? I’m starting to worry that last night had some long-lasting effects.”

Jinyoung scoffs, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “I’ll be fine, worry about yourself, hyung.”

“Love you too.” Mark’s words are casual like always, and Jackson resents him for a second, before he realizes this is just Mark’s cover-up. The look in his eyes when they were back at the hotel didn’t lie, and Jackson sighs as he turns back to Jinyoung. 

“So, are we good?” Jackson rubs the back of his head with his hands, and Jinyoung huffs.

“Are we good? Is that how you ask people to date you?”

“What?” Jackson feels like his brain cells are all gone as he stares at Jinyoung. In his 22 years of living (no matter how dangerous or unbelievable it was), he’s sure he has never faced anything like this. 

He thinks back to Jaebeom all of the sudden, remembering the time he told Jaebeom how stupid he thought relationships were. Jaebeom agreed, clinking their glasses of beer. 

But that was before he met Youngjae.

When he and Youngjae started dating and were (“In a serious, official relationship”, his hyung had mentioned proudly), Jackson couldn’t feel happy for him. That fact only made him more depressed, and while he knows it’s unreasonable and irrational that he was jealous of his best friend’s happiness, he can’t help it.

He’s thought countless times, turning over and over in his bed on sleepless nights, _Why couldn’t it be me?_

It was ridiculous and he knows it. 

Youngjae is an angel (Jaebeom’s personal favorite nickname for him), a sweetheart, a fucking ray of sunshine that managed to light up Jaebeom’s dark world. He was everything Jaebeom wanted, needed, and Jaebeom happily let Youngjae into his life. But Jaebeom left Jackson in the dark.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and that’s what made Jackson tear his hair out in frustration. 

It wasn’t Jaebeom’s fault for pursuing happiness after years and years living on edge with Jackson. It wasn’t Youngjae’s fault for being the kindest and smartest and most patient person Jackson knows in his small, damp world. And it wasn’t Jackson’s fault for feeling that way. 

He’s self-reflected, meditated, read a pamphlet, and all that bullshit only to realize he just wants to be loved. Properly loved. For once.

Jaebeom is a great friend. His childhood best friend, in fact, and they have seen each other through thick and thin and half-dead. There were even times where Jackson considered the what-if with him, but he knows they weren’t meant to be (as fucking fairy-tale cliche as it sounds). 

Jackson laughs at the fact Jinyoung says he’s a romantic. Fuck if Jackson himself isn’t the biggest romatic he knows. 

“Jackson?” Jinyoung’s voice brings him back to the present, and Jackson blinks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Jackson nods, relaxing as he realizes the muscles on his face had been clenched. “Yeah, I’m good.” Taking a look at Jinyoung, he finally lets a small smile spread across his face. 

“To properly answer your question,” Jackson takes Jinyoung’s hands, catching the man by surprise. “I know we just met, like, two days ago, and not exactly under ideal circumstances, but will you go out with me?”

Jinyoung looks down at his hand, before breathing out a laugh. Intertwining his fingers with Jackson’s, he nods, looking back up at the man. “This might be the weirdest date I’ve ever been on, but yes. Of course.”

Jackson lets his grin grow wider, before Jinyoung leans in suddenly, pecking Jackson on the cheek. 

He giggles as he pulls back, watching Jackson’s face heat up into the same color as his maroon shirt. 

“Don’t tell me that was your first kiss.” 

Jackson stays quiet, and both Jinyoung and Mark widen their eyes. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” Jinyoung slaps a hand over his mouth as Mark’s shit-eating grin spreads across his face. 

“He just took your kiss virginity.” Mark doesn’t have the courtesy to cover his loud laughter like Jinyoung, but a glare from Jackson hushes him. 

“Shut up before I drive all of us off this ledge,” Jackson says, his face still red as he starts the car again. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung’a voice is gentle, and he touches Jackson’s face the same way. “You’re just...cuter than I expected.”

Jackson groans, gripping the steering wheel as he desperately tries to keep his focus. “ I’m serious, Jinyoung.”

“Okay, okay.” Jinyoung laughs, and as he removes his hands from Jackson’s face Jackson already longs for the lingering touch of Jinyoung’s long fingers. “I won’t tease you anymore.”

Mark raises his hand in the backseat, “But can I?”

The answer is no, as both Jackson and Jinyoung sends him a pointed look. Mark pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as he lies back down on the seats. 

“No fun.”

Rolling his eyes, Jackson knows he’s going to have a talk about their relationship later, but for now he just wants to concentrate on Jinyoung. 

“Where are we going?” Jinyoung asks as his eyes wander around, following the highway scenery. 

“Where you wanted to go,” Jackson says, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“We’re going to the beach?” Mark asks, and Jinyoung blinks at the both of them. 

“You guys still remember?” 

Jackson and Mark and practically in sync as they both roll their eyes, chanting a “duh?”.

Jinyoung laughs at this, covering his mouth with his hand as the other two men send each other looks. 

“I’m starting to think you two should get together.” Jinyoung teases, eliciting an awkward exchange from Jackson and Mark. 

Jackson clears his throat, readjusting his gaze to the road ahead of him. “You say that as I just agreed to date you?”

Jinyoung laughs gently, “Jealous already? I’m starting to think you’ve done this before.”

Jackson is taken over by embrasement again, and keeps quiet as Jinyoung hums and Mark sleeps. 

He wonders about the future as he drives crystallized rays of sun reflecting on blue bodies of water. 

He gets why Jinyoung likes the beach so much. 

Jinyoung isn’t stupid. Well, dense might be a better word. 

He sees the way Jackson looks at him. It’s the same way Mark looks at him. 

Jinyoung has this epiphany, but he doesn’t know what to do with it. Sure, he’s gotten Jackson to admit it (but that was only because the boy was as much of a hopeless romantic as he is and far more fragile than Jinyoung thought), but Mark is going to be a hard shell to crack. 

Jinyoung wants to laugh, at the fact he never thought he would be in this situation; in a car with three criminals (combined) and in love with both of them after a day. 

Talk about a romance drama. 

“We’re here.” Jackson says, and Jinyoung smiles as he looks out at the place Jackson parks. 

They’re near a secluded beach, with deep blue waters and pearl white sand. It’s windy today, and Jinyoung holds his jacket tighter to his body as he gets out of the car, kicking off his shoes when he approaches the sand. 

He really loves the beach. It gives him good memories.

Mark and Jackson get out as well behind him, and Jinyoung takes the first step on the warm sand. 

The sand almost melts beneath him, and Jinyoung sighs as he makes his way slowly to the coast. Still holding his shoes, Jinyoung walks to the point where the waves just intersect with the sand, letting the cool water run between his feet.

He stares out at the open ocean, squinting as the sun pierces from the reflection of the water. He wonders if he could just stay there forever, in such a nice and peaceful moment. 

“We should skinny dip.”

Jinyoung blinks, turning back to Mark, who has a smirk on his face and already one hand unzipping his jacket. 

“Are you insane? It’s fucking freezing.” Jackson stops Mark with a hand on his arm, and Mark scoffs.

“I think we’re all on the edge of insanity here. A little swim won’t do much harm.”

Jackson rolls his eyes, letting Mark go and Mark grins, stripping off his jacket. 

“Are you going in with the rest of your clothes?” Jinyoung frowns, and Mark laughs a little. “That’s not skinny dipping.”

“Yeah, well, guess it’s just dipping then.” Mark waves a hand. “Anyways, I’ll also drown faster that way.”

“No, no, you’re not.” Unsure if Mark is joking or not, Jinyoung panics and grabs Mark by the arm as well, pulling a little too hard as they both fall on the soft sand, Mark landing on top of Jinyoung and pressing down.

Talk about a romance drama.

Jinyoung wants to laugh.

Jackson clears his throat, but doesn’t make an attempt to pull Mark off of Jinyoung. Jinyoung notices this, and he’s sure Mark does as well from the way he scans Jinyoung’s face, before excusing himself and climbs off the younger man. 

Jinyoung sits up on the sand as well, studying Mark as he said man rubs his hand with his face sheepishly, muttering an apology. 

“Here,” Jackson helps Jinyoung up, giving a hand and pulling him gently to his side. 

“Maybe one day we can go skinny dipping,” Jinyoung says, looking out at the ocean again. “But not today. And surely not here.”

“We’ll have to go a lot farther,” Jackson sticks his hands into his pockets. 

Mark hums nonchalantly, picking off his discarded jacket and dusting it off. Jinyoung notices just how thin Mark is. The said man’s got muscle on his arms (and Jinyoung wouldn’t risk a fight with him) but otherwise, he’s all skin and bones. 

He suddenly remembers Jackson’s body in that silk shirt last night, and he blushes as he thinks about the peek of tight chest muscle underneath. 

Clearing his throat, Jinyoung decides to walk along the beach a little more, letting the faint salt breeze clear his head. 

Jackson and Mark don’t stop him, following close behind as they stay in a serene silence.

Jinyoung is glad that Jackson and Mark don’t talk much, and when they do it’s all laughs and wry jokes. It makes him feel comfortable. They make him feel comfortable. 

The beach reminds Jinyoung of his mother, before everything happened. 

_“Let the ocean calm you, Jinyoung.” She had said, taking Jinyoung’s small hand as she pointed out to the horizon. “It washes away every worry, every doubt, every thought.”_

Jinyoung thinks that the mother he knew now was a completely different person that the mother that loves the ocean. 

He’s such a stereotype, Jinyoung thinks, picking up some sand and letting it sift through his fingers. Of course his father left him, and that’s the whole root cause of his hopeless romanticness. 

Yes, he has daddy issues. And now then he has mommy issues. 

Having one unstable guardian was enough-he doesn’t know what sick joke the universe is trying to pull out with an absent father and an abusive mother. 

He blames the alcohol, the circumstances, even himself. 

When Jackson showed him that medical diagnosis of his mother’s terminal illness, he’d thought about going back to his mother, to take care of her. The little money he earns from the salon wasn’t enough, and he knows if he stayed, his mother wouldn’t have been able to pass six more months. 

A part of him almost rejoices, where the rest of him only felt the immense burden of guilt. He knows his mother hasn’t been good to him remotely for the past years, but the whole reason why he loves the beach resides in him. He wants to remember that mother of his, even if it’s just a nostalgic delusion. 

If Bambam said that his mother has been taken care of, Jinyoung doesn’t think it’s the worst parting gift for his mother. He counts it as payment for the early years. 

He stands in the water for a while, closing his eyes as he feels the freezing water run over his feet again and again, until he’s numb. He peeks with one eye at Jackson and Mark, and smiles as he realizes they mirror his actions. 

_Cute._ Jinyoung thinks unexpectedly. He supposes that’s the last word to describe them. 

A hand grabs his shoulder suddenly, and Jinyoung blinks as Jackson envelops him in a back hug. 

“You’re crying.” He says gently, and Jinyoung puts his hands to his cheeks to realize they are wet. 

He laughs a little, leaning back into Jackson’s hug. “Just thinking. Reminiscing. Whatever.”

Jackson nods, not pushing the topic as Mark comes up behind. Jinyoung feels Jackson turn around and he does as well, only to burst into laughter. 

“What are you doing?” Jackson frowns, and Mark gives a pout. 

He’s wrapped his arms around Jackson’s back, tucking his hands into Jackson’s armpits. 

“It’s cold.” Mark replies simply, and Jackson huffs.

Jinyoung smiles at the scene, glancing at the sky that has turned bright blue to a velvet navy. There were even some stars in the sky, glistening as the thin moon hangs over the ocean. 

“You’re right, we should head back to the car.” Jinyoung says, taking a step to only have Jackson hanging onto him, and Mark doing the same. 

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung just smiles fondly as the three (very mature) men make their way on the sand to the car, with complaints from Jackson that Mark is stepping on the heels of his feet. 

When they arrive at the car, they dust themselves off, flipping their shoes down and dumping out all the remaining sand. Their clothes dried a long time ago from the occasional stray wave, but the salty smell of the ocean still remains. 

“Here,” Mark takes out something from his jacket pocket, “A little souvenir.”

On the palm of his hands, Mark has three clam shells, all in different sizes and colors. There’s a pure white one with little spots of brown, a slightly green stained on, and a pitch black abalone shell. 

“Woah,” Jinyoung studies the shells, and Mark grins as he hands Jinyoung the white one and Jackson the abalone one. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Mark shrugs, keeping the green one for himself.

“Thanks.” Jackson’s voice is rough, but he places the shell gently in his hands, as if it is a fragile piece of glasswork. 

Mark shrugs again, yawning as he stretches. “We should make, I don’t know, those surfer necklaces or something with these.”

“We should,” Jinyoung says, tracing over the smooth lines of the shell. “We can get some yarn at a craft store and string them into a necklace.”

Jackson, to Jinyoung’a surprise, hums in agreement as his eyes light up. “We could also make bracelets.”

“Good ideas.” Mark says, curling up in the backseat. “Let me know when we get there.”

Jinyoung and Jackson exchange a glance as they pull over to a gas station. After all, they had been driving all day. 

As Jackson takes care of the gas, Jinyoung walks into the store to pay, as well as getting some greasy snacks for dinner. He glances at the packs of cigarettes behind the counter, and ultimately decides to settle on a pack of high quality and a bag of lollipops. 

Jackson told him about his talk with Mark’s addiction, and Jinyoung decides one step at a time is much more sustainable. 

He pays in cash, not to touch the card Bambam has given them. That, Jackson has decided, will be his emergency savings. 

Carrying out the snacks in his hands, Jinyoung sees Jackson with his hands in his pockets, leaning besides the gas cap hatch. Jinyoung feels a sense of deja vu to the night he met Jackson. 

“This isn’t exactly the healthiest, but I think that’s the least of our concerns.” He smiles, handing Jackson a slice of pizza and a mega cup of soda. 

Jackson laughs gently, taking a bite and taps on the glass next to Mark. 

“Let him sleep.” Jinyoung says, taking a big gulp of his iced tea. “We’ll just save some for him.”

Jackson shrugs, taking another bite. There’s a comfortable silence between them as they finish their meal. 

“Hey,” Jackson turns to Jinyoung, and Jinyoung looks back. In the shitty lighting of the flickering light bulbs, Jackson still looks good. 

“Hey?” Jinyoung teases back lightly. 

“Look, everything I said today,” Jackson gestures with his hands vaguely, “I really meant it. I like you. A lot. Like, genuinely. And uh, I’d do pretty much anything to prove it.” Jackson laughs nervously afterwards, and Jinyoung thinks he really, really likes him. 

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung cups Jackson’s cheeks just like he did in the car, turning the man towards him. “I get it. And I get your feelings, as well as returning them.”

“You have a way with words.” Jackson grins wryly, leaning into Jinyoung’s touch. “Much better than me.”

Jinyoung shrugs, “That’s not exacting a requirement to be my boyfriend.”

Feeling Jackson’s face heat under his touch, Jinyoung smiles. 

“Then, what are your requirements?”

“Good to me, smart, and hot. Hasn’t committed severe crimes. Maybe on the run from some gang.”

“Low standards.”

Scoffing, Jinyoung pushes Jackson’s face away lightly. “Don’t call my taste in men bad. I don’t want you to insult yourself like that.”

Jackson takes a deep breath, studying Jinyoung’s face for a while. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Jinyoung laughs, pointing a finger at himself. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Jackson’s question takes Jinyoung by surprise. Blinking, Jinyoung realizes Jackson’s afraid to even touch him on the arm without consent. It’s always Jinyoung who initiates it first. 

He gets why. Jackson and Mark both take what happened to Jinyoung to heart, and they’re scared. 

Jinyoung laughs drily internally. He doesn’t blame Jackson and Mark at all-quite the opposite, actually. But this was going to be an issue later. Besides, he still has those nightmares, reoccurring and switching between past and present trauma. 

But for now, he nods. 

“Yes. I want you to kiss me right now.”

Jackson leans in gently, only slightly brushing lips with Jinyoung. Jinyoung supposes it’s just right, for now. 

Jinyoung hadn’t expected his first kiss with a guy he had just met two days ago to be at a gas station miles away from home while eating junk food, but he supposed it’s a romantic niche somewhere. 

“Thank you.” Jinyoung whispers, pulling back to see a flustered Jackson. 

“No need.” Jackson makes eye contact with Jinyoung, despite his obvious blush, and Jinyoung decides to tiptoe, pecking Jackson on the forehead. 

“Come on,” Jinyoung holds Jackson’s hand, practically skipping back to the car. “We should find somewhere to stay tonight.”

Jackson nods, a hand behind his neck as he follows Jinyoung in suite. 

Jinyoung hopes Jackson knows just how much he means to him. 

He also hopes Mark wakes up soon. 

Mark is, in fact, awake. 

And just at the fucking perfect time where Jackson and Jinyoung share a kiss under the shady lights of the gas station. 

Mark hasn’t expected that to be the first thing he sees, and he rubs his eyes groggily just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

He isn’t, and it’s apparent from the way Jinyoung gives a forehead kiss to Jackson, and the color of Jackson’s face as they walk back to the car. 

Mark huffs out a laugh, turning back to the front seat and closing his eyes again. 

He’s uncertain, he realizes. Throughout his 24 years of living a half-conscious life he’s never felt safe or secure, or had anything that lasted. 

Yes, he realizes change is inevitable but he doesn’t think it’s necessary to have to live in constant fear of being raided or attacked. 

Fuck his patents, Mark thinks as he studies himself in the reflection of the car seat window. The only thing they gave him was a sense of insecurity. 

“Mark-hyung?” Jinyoung’s voice prompts him to open his eyes again, and he looks down at the bag of food in the boy’s hand. 

“Dinner? For me?” Mark grins as Jinyoung nods. 

“We already ate.” Jackson says as Mark rummages through the bag, popping open a can of soda and unwrapping a hot dog. “There’s a pack of cigarettes there too, but also lollipops.”

Stopping his movement for a second, Mark checks Jackson’s words, and does indeed find a pack of cigs and a bagful of lollipops. Raising an eyebrow, he glances at Jackson and Jinyoung. 

“Thanks,” Mark says, ripping the lollipop bag open. He doesn’t have a lighter, and he doubts he can find one soon. 

Jackson nods, turning back to the wheel as they drive off into the night again. Mark thinks they’re going to have a daily routine soon. He hopes so. 

“There’s a motel near here, around 10 minutes.” Jinyoung says, searching something on his phone. It’s a phone Yugyeom has set up, and both Mark and Jackson have one too. Yugyeom doesn’t look much like a techie with that nursed hair, Mark thinks, but he guesses the boy wouldn’t have been with Bambam if he wasn’t skilled enough. 

“Sounds good to me.” Mark says, wolfing down the hot dog and downing his drink. He pops a lychee flavored lollipop in his mouth and gets a feel for the sweet candy. It’s not a bad feeling. 

Jackson hums in agreement, and soon they arrive at the said motel, with a neon sign and a small building. 

The front desk that checks them in looks bored out of her mind, and she hands them keys to three separate rooms hurriedly, getting back to watch whatever she was so indulged in on her phone. 

It’s a sense of deja vu Mark feels as they each make their own way back to their rooms. 

Jackson and Jinyoung talk a bit, and Mark waves a goodnight before retreating back to his room. It’s much smaller than the one Bambam had assigned them, and he immediately checks the bathroom out. 

He laughs a little at the ridiculous pink and white tiles of the wall. Flipping the shoes curtain open, he spits a white bathtub. A thought flashes across his mind, and a memory after. Shuddering, Mark quickly closes the shower curtain and walks out the bathroom. 

The rest of the room decor is no better, with green wallpaper and flowered bed sheets. Mark guesses it’s been decades since the motel has been opened, and the sheets probably haven’t changed since then. 

But then again, he’s not exactly picky, and he spreads himself on the bed. The yellow lamp in the corner of the room is his only light source, and he stares up at the bumpy ceiling that reflects the light. 

He wishes he could smoke right now. Running his tongue over his teeth, he can still taste the faint lychee taste of the lollipop. 

Mark glances at the bag of candy near him, and shakes his head as he grabs another one. This time, it’s an orange flavored one. 

Letting the stick hang in his mouth, he thinks back to the beach. Whatever Jinyoung was doing worked, and he’s surprised at how much closing your eyes and letting the waves wash over you calms you (no matter how cold it is). 

He thinks Jinyoung looks like he belongs near a beach, the golden rays of sunshine hitting his skin under a perfectly blue sky. 

Someone like Jinyoung doesn’t belong where Mark is, a shitty neon lighted hotel and wishing he could get high. 

Mark doesn’t even think Jackson belongs where he is. Jackson’s too smart, probably for his own good, and if Mark is honest, Jinyoung is the perfect balance for him. 

They look nice together, and while Mark isn’t one to really give a shit about couples, he genuinely hopes they stay together. 

So where does Mark belong in this equation?

_Fuck if I know._

Jackson clearly knows about his feelings towards Jinyoung, and Mark doesn’t doubt that Jinyoung has figured him out as well. 

He thinks back to the beach again, landing on top of Jinyoung like some bad romance drama. He doesn’t want to think about how Jinyoung stared up into him, an inviting sense of comfort and safeness. He surely doesn’t want to fathom false hope that landed him here in the first place. 

And Jackson. There’s something about Jackson that he kins with, except without the last bit of hope in life. Hell, he told Jackson that they were alike, but now Mark doubts himself. 

Either way, Mark feels like he’s on the verge of a new addiction. 

Mark decides he wants to go to sleep again. But he decides, just maybe, he wants to wake up tomorrow. 

By the morning, the chewed out stick of the lollipop has somehow stayed in his mouth, and he wakes up without a headache. 

_I should brush my teeth,_ Mark cringes as he pulls the stick from his tongue. 

Walking into the bathroom, he takes a shower, letting the lukewarm water run down his body as he closes his eyes. It’s been a while since he’s felt this relaxed (even though they weren’t exactly all safe and stable.) 

Habits and routines are scary, especially when they lure into a false sense of okayness. Mark knows better than anyone else-he’s an addict after all. 

_Fuck._ Mark takes another lollipop out of the bag. 

He walks over and opens the curtains, only gone completely fucking blinded by the sun outside. How long has it been since he’s stared at the sun willingly in the morning?

 _Habits are scary,_ Mark thinks as he gathers his belongings, opening the shabby door to meet up with Jinyoung and Jackson. 

“‘Morning, Mark says, his voice slightly muffled by the candy in his mouth. 

“Morning.” Jackson nods, looking much more refreshed than yesterday. 

“Good morning!” Jinyoung walks to them, an armful of breakfast breads and bars. “They had some stuff here, and it’s kinda shitty but it’ll do.”

Mark laughs, helping Jinyoung carry the food. Jackson helps as well, and Mark can’t help but think it’s some sort of metaphor. 

Before Mark knows it, they’re out on the open road again, this time with windows rolled down and wind racing past their ears. 

It takes around 21 days to develop a habit. Mark thinks that’s bullshit. 

It only takes him 2 days and a morning, with a bag of artificially fruit flavored lollipops from two gorgeous guys. 

Maybe he’s easy, but in this moment, Mark can’t give much of a fuck. 

Mark likes the routine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy jinson development (even though it’s really slow im sorryy)! and don’t worry, mark will be joiiing them soon!
> 
> also can you guess how i assigned the shell colors hehe :)
> 
> comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!


	4. a free room’s price; some friends, some group therapy, and some kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! 
> 
> before the start of this chapter i just want to address everything that’s been going on with got7.  
> if you didn’t know, it’s been confirmed that the members of got7 are leaving jype. 
> 
> past and present mistreatment of got7 is apparent (and there are many twitter or instagram threads addressing it if you want a basic summary) and i believe they have very valid reasons for leaving. i will, of course, continue to support them no matter what. 
> 
> got7 is one of the first kpop groups i got into and they hold a very special place in my heart. i love their music so much and i love their personalities and friendships as well. all the members are so talented and hardworking and deserve all the love in the world. they are one of my ults and if anything, i am hopeful that they will get the good treatment they deserve when they leave. 
> 
> i feel like many more people have said it already (better than me), and the members themselves as well but it’s seven or never. 
> 
> the good news is that the members are still as close as ever and recently, they’ve either changed their social media bios or posted something in relation to keeping got7 together, which made me v happy and hopeful :’) it’s such a relief that they all are genuinely good friends and i really hope we get to see them together in the future. 
> 
> it’s also been confirmed staring from january 19th that they are able to own everything “got7” as a brand which is amazing, and there will be opportunities in the future for them to work together as got7 again. as the members have said on instagram themselves, #got7forever, and #aghaseforever :)
> 
> in regards to this fic, i will still be updating, and hopefully finish it (because i’m actually terrible at updating chapter fics)! i also hope there is a chance that i can write future got7 fics as well! 
> 
> okay! all that aside, happy super belated bday jb (aka one of the best leaders)! and please enjoy the chapter!

“It’s a right turn.”

“It’s a left.”

“It’s clearly a right! That’s what the GPS says!”

“The GPS is fucked up, and the road sign clearly says you turn left.”

Mark groans as tries his best to hold his bladder from bursting. Jackson and Jinyoung had been arguing where the nearest gas station in the middle of nowhere was for the last 10 minutes. 

“I’ll go pee in a bush if we have to sit here and argue about this for one more minute. Actually no, I’ll just piss in this car if we don’t move right _now_.”

“Fine, I’ll go right then.” Jackson huffs, turning the wheel and Jinyoung leans back, looking the other way with a frown on his lips.

There’s a few minutes of silence before Jackson parks in front of a shady-looking motel. 

“This isn’t a gas station,” Jinyoung mutters, almost guiltily, and Jackson sighs.

“We’ll just go ask the owner if they have one. Or we’ll make Mark pee in a bush nearby.”

Mark thinks he’s about to get a kidney infection soon, and merely grunts as he struggles out of the car.

Walking into the motel, the first thing Mark notices is the lighting. Holding his stomach (and desperately wishing Jackson and Jinyoung will hurry up instead of bickering like an old couple), Mark looks around more and realizes it is way darker inside.

While it is afternoon and the sun is shining outside the building, inside the motel all the curtains and blinds were closed, with one dim lamp in the corner. 

Then comes the smell. Wrinkling his nose, Mark is way too sure that is the smell of a couple of illegal substances. It was all too familiar to him. It’s like the room has been coated with gasoline, mixed with drying paint and something Mark can only describe as electricity. 

Either way, he doesn’t want to stay a minute longer. The bushes outside are looking really tempting right about now. 

Taking a glance at Jackson, Mark notices Jackson realizes something is off too. Even Jinyoung takes a cautious look around, his frown now for something entirely different. 

Just as Mark is about to whisper something about leaving, someone appears at the front desk. 

The man at the desk is wearing an oversized flannel that hangs off his frame with several piercings on both of his ears, all silver colored metal. He has heavy eye bags, and ruffles his mint hair as he takes a wary look at them. Mark blinks at how the man, who can’t be older than him, is a carbon copy of him. It’s like looking into a cracked mirror. 

“Can I help you?” The man’s voice is deeper than Mark thought, and more soothing than he likes. 

“We’re just looking for a bathroom,” Jackson answers, his voice still full of confidence and his posture not lacking either. Mark admires Jackson’s con artist ways sometimes, despite shitting on it every chance he gets. 

_How immature,_ he thinks to himself. It’s like he’s flirting with Jackson like a little boy that pulls on the pigtails of a girl he likes for her attention. 

“Outside, take a right around the corner.” The man breathes out, his expression relaxing as he hands Jackson a rusty key.

“Thank you.” Jackson gives an easy smile, and tosses the key to Mark. Catching it, Mark shuffles out of the building.

The man behind the desk says something, but Mark is already out the door as he rushes to the bathroom. 

The bathroom, now that he has (finally) taken care of his business, is a lot nicer than Mark expected for a drug house.

At least, he’s pretty sure it’s a drug house from the smell of it. 

Washing his hands, he takes a look in the cracked mirror and realizes for once in his life, he doesn’t look like a total zombie. The dark circles under his eyes are a bit lighter, and he notices his skin is looking a bit clearer too. He thinks back to the man standing behind the desk, and wonders about his life. Is it the exact same as his? 

_As it_ was, Mark corrects himself, because he has Jackson and Jinyoung in his life now. 

Speaking of which, he wonders why they haven’t met up with him yet. A flash of panic runs through him, and Mark swallows as he makes his way back to the building with the key. 

When he gets back, he sees the man and Jackson having a conversation, as Jinyoung sits on one of the armchairs, one of his legs crossed on top of the other. 

Glancing at Jinyoung, the other man only shrugs at him. “Jackson says they’re friends or something.”

“Hyung,” Jackson calls Mark over, and Mark is glad to say that he can walk normally without having to worry about his bladder (or kidney). 

“This is a good place for a drug house,” Mark says to the man behind the counter, who huffs out a laugh in response. 

“No place is really a good place.” The man holds out his hand, covered with tattoos. “Min Yoongi. Nice to meet you. Jackson told me about your trip.”

Yoongi calls it a trip, and fuck if Mark doesn’t think everything’s that’s happened is anything less than a lucid acid trip. 

“Mark Tuan.” Mark takes his hand, shaking it as he feels the calloused and long fingers of Yoongi. 

“I’ve heard about your cartel,” Yoongi says, gripping Mark’s hand with surprising strength. “I’m sorry, but they’re pretty infamous.”

Mark shrugs, “Nothing to be sorry about. It’s the truth they’re pretty shitty.”

Yoongi cracks a wry smile, and Mark thinks there’s some sort of familiar understanding that passes through them. 

“I was surprised to hear it got taken down though.”

“All thanks to Bambam,” Jackson says with a proud grin. “He’s kept the Milani family away too, for a lot longer than I expected.”

Yoongi whistles lowly, “Kid’s grown a lot. Really feels like he was that little street rat you picked up yesterday. And for Milani, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Jackson laughs drily, “I’m telling Bam you said that though.”

“It’s the truth,” Yoongi shrugs, fingers tapping the desk. “Same thing applies to Jungkook. Kids grow up fast these days.”

“Jungkook’s a smart kid,” Jackson smiles, “Isn’t he working with Bam and Gyeom as well?”

Yoong hums fondly, “Sometimes they deliver shipments to their club. Won’t shut up about it days after either. I let him go just because he whines about not seeing each other all the time.”

“Kids.” Jackson murmurs, and Yoongi smiles in an understanding fashion. 

“Anyways, you guys are free to stay however long you need. It turns out Jackson’s done one of my friends’ a favor before, and I’m happy to help you.”

Mark nods in response, and Jackson smiles at Yoongi. 

“Oh, of course, tell Namjoon I said hello. It’s been a while.”

“He’d be pissed to hear you got yourself into a lot of trouble, but glad you’re alive.” Yoongi says, sliding another key towards Jackson as he retrieves the bathroom key from Mark. 

“He’d be disappointed but not surprised.” Jackson laughs, taking the room key. “Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi nods, “Call me if you need anything.”

He disappears into the back, and Jackson beckons Mark and Jinyoung to join him as he walks down the hallway to their room. 

“You have a lot of friends,” Jinyoung mutters, “A lot of friends you do favors for.”

“Are you jealous?” Jackson huffed, unlocking the room to open the door to a neon lit suite size of a room. 

Mark cringes as the air of animosity from their previous fight hasn’t entirely dissipated, and hurries into the room. 

He stops as he scans the room, and realizes something.

There’s only one bed.

Grated, it’s a California king-sized bed but there’s only one bed.

There’s a pause, before Jackson speaks up, a slight tremble in his voice. “I can ask Yoongi-hyung for another room-”

“No.” Jinyoung cuts him off. “I’m okay with it.” He turns his head to side-eye Jackson, “Are you?”

Jackson blinks in surprise, and Mark throws him a sympathetic glance. For the sly con artist Jackson is, he is no match for Jinyoung.

“I’m okay with it too,” Mark grins before Jackson can say anything, and the younger man sends him an incredulous look. Shrugging, Mark hops on the bed, before being immediately dragged off by Jinyoung.

“Jackets and shoes off,” Jinyoung says sternly, scolding Mark like a teacher. “And go take a shower.”

“Yes, sir,” Mark blows a raspberry, rushing to the shower before Jinyoung can catch him. He hears Jinyoung huff in the back, and Jackson’s faint laugh.

“How old are you?” Jinyoung yells, and Jackson just laughs harder.

Smiling, Mark locks the bathroom and stares at the mirror as he strips his clothes off. The bathroom is bigger, and thankfully, there is no bathtub, just a shower. 

He’s glad to see that Jackson and Jinyoung have made up when he steps out of the shower, a towel around his waist and his clothes in one hand.

They seem to have _really_ made up, on that topic, for Mark sees them on a small armchair near the bed, and it’s a familiar scene. 

Jinyoung’s straddling Jackson-and for a minute Mark sees them in the club, drunk and high-except they’re completely sober this time. He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse, for him. 

Mark watches, still from the safety of behind the cracked door of the bathroom, as Jinyoung takes Jackson’s chin gently with his hand and presses a kiss to Jackson’s lips, their faces dimly lit by the purple lights of the room. 

Jackson’s hands, though hesitant at first, travel down Jinyoung’s back and stay at his sides. Jinyoung says something, and Jackson’s hands lower until his fingers are just grazing the hem of Jinyoung’s shirt. He finally lifts it, reaching beneath the thin t-shirt fabric as Jinyoung leans down into another kiss, this one more heated than the last. 

And Jackson’s hands are making their way up Jinyoung’s sides again. Though Mark can’t see it, he thinks about the skin-on-skin contact and it makes him purse his lips.

Mark closes the door, leaning against it as he breathes in the steam from his shower. 

_They look good together._

_They look good together and they don’t need me._

_Fuck._

He struggles back into his clothes and stays in the bathroom, trying to ignore the image of Jackson and Jinyoung that plays again and again in his head. He tries to air out the bathroom, and his thoughts. 

_Fuck._

_I want them._

There’s a small, vintage (old-as-fuck, Mark calls it), television in the middle of the room, and a couch right in front. Jackson, Mark, and Jinyoung are laying with limbs entangled as they watch the colorful screen in silence. 

Mark doesn’t address Jackson and Jinyoung, and not a word is exchanged as the static covers the silence. 

All Jackson knows is that the moment Mark came out of the shower, avoiding eye contact with both of them, the 

Jackson doesn’t know what to say, in all his honesty. Is he supposed to comfort Mark? But how would he even do it?

_Hey, sorry for dating the guy you’re also interested in and kissing him right in front of you and making you feel like shit. We’re still cool, right?_

In retrospect, Mark would probably appreciate the straightforwardness. But Jackson wants to work on his execution to not sound like a complete dick. 

Then came the matter of why he gives a fuck what Mark thinks about him, and holy shit he thinks he’s in love with Mark. 

It’s not like Jinyoung didn’t notice, and they’ve even talked about to before. Jinyoung thinks it should be about time they confronted it, but Jackson wants to wait. He doesn’t know why, when he wants Mark just as much as Jinyoung, but there’s still something holding him back. Maybe it’s the layer of protectiveness around him, which Jinyoung has somehow broken into and Jackson needs recooperation before letting yet another person in. Maybe it’s just because Mark is always so mysterious, talking so much but saying so little. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to share Jinyoung just yet, even though Jackson knows damn well they wouldn’t be able to fathom a life without Mark now. 

That doesn’t make him a bad person, right?

Jackson thinks it’s a fragile dynamic between them, and a certain feeling in the air, with so many things unsaid and so much obscurity. 

Now, Jackson is hypervigilant of Jinyoung’s head against his shoulder and Mark’s knee just grazing his thigh. 

Even the smallest rustle of movement creates a burning tension in Jackson’s lower abdomen, and he doesn’t think how it’s fair that they have such an impact on him. 

It’s been a few hours, and Jackson checks the time from the clock hanging above the television to realize it’s already night. 

Jinyoung has long fallen asleep and Mark’s eyes are half closing as well. Jackson himself is on the verge of sleep, but he knows he needs to be more alert. Not for himself, but for them. 

A few days go by unnaturally peaceful. It’s a weird contrast between the last few days they’ve spent, but Jackson is glad there’s room for a breath. 

Yoongi lets them stay and as Jackson learns, is really good at making drinks. Often, Jackson finds himself in the hidden lounge of the motel sharing a drink with Yoongi in the middle of the afternoon as Jinyoung takes the car somewhere (usually to get food) and Mark stays in the motel room. He doesn’t mind, as there are some things he wants updates on and Yoongi has the information and intention to help him. 

Jungkook comes around every so often, usually bombarding Jackson with questions about Bambam and Yugyeom, but Jackson doesn’t mind since it’s Jungkook. 

“I haven’t been able to see them since last year,” Jungkook pouts as Yoongi grabs the glass of heavy liquor from him, “Bam called before and said they are dealing with some shipment shit, and Yug’s been busy with making new deals.”

“They seemed to be doing fine when I saw them,” Jackson says as Jungkook tried to fight Yoongi for his drink back, only to have the older man smirk and take a sip. “They helped me a lot this time.”

“Well that’s because you deserve it, hyung” Jungkook says, finally giving up on his drink as he cracks open a soda, but not before sending a glare at Yoongi, who just shrugs and enjoys his drink. “You know Bam and Yugs are grateful to you, as I am with Yoongi-hyung, even if he’s being an asshole right now.”

“Just trying to protect your liver.”

“By destroying yours?”

“Touché.”

Jungkook groans, stretching out over the coffee table as he takes a sip of his soda. “I have to make a bunch of deliveries later. The least you could do is give me a drink.”

Yoongi huffs, nursing his drink. “You’re bringing Jimin and Tae with you.”

“All the more reason.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “It’s hard to keep up with them sometimes.”

“You’re still the golden trio or whatever. Customers love you. Didn’t you hear Namjoon last time? Sales went up by 15%, especially in those obnoxious rich areas, so keep doing what you’re doing.” Yoongi waves a hand dismissively as Jungkook huffs, taking another sip of his soda. “Speaking of trios, what’s up with you?”

This time Jackson groans, and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Complicated.”

Yoongi nods, “I guessed.”

Jackson hasn’t expected his afternoon to be spent talking about his love life to an all-too-eager Jungkook and Yoongi, but that’s what he finds himself doing. 

“Shit,” Yoongi raises a brow, “Out of all people I didn’t expect you to be in a threesome.”

“This is literally the best thing I’ve heard in months,” Jungkook grins, tapping his empty can. “No wonder last time I talked to Mark-hyung he seemed hesitant about your relationship.”

“What did he say?” Jackson finds himself asking before he can stop himself, only for his face to turn red. He hates it when he blushes. 

“Shit,” Yoongi blinks, “Oh, you’re _whipped_ whipped.”

Jungkook shrugs, “Oh, he just _casually_ mentioned how he would be dead without you and Jinyoung-hyung and how much he appreciates you guys and how he doesn’t want to leave. He might have been slightly drunk though. Wanted to get high too, but Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let him touch a speck of weed. He said you and Jinyoung-hyung would get mad.”

“Sounds like Mark,” Jackson responds, his mouth going dry as he stands up. Mark has long dropped the formalities with Jackson and Jinyoung, having waved his hand dismissively one time. _You don’t need to use formalities with me_ . _It’s weird to me._ “And thanks hyung. I’m gonna go.”

“Good luck!” Jungkook waves with a bright grin, “It’s not everyday you get to make a love confession.”

Jackson leaves Yoongi and Jungkook in the back room as he goes back to Mark. 

Mark is in the hotel room, draped over the couch with the television on and a bag of chips near him and a lollipop hanging in his mouth. He doesn’t seem particularly interested in what is happening on screen, and sits up when he hears the door open.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Jackson sets down the two bottles of water he grabbed from Yoongi’s endless mini-fridge down on the small coffee table. “Jinyoung’s not back yet?”

“Nope,” Mark quickly gets off the couch, making his way to the table as well. “He said he was going to be out longer today. Don’t expect the car anytime soon.”

Jackson shrugs, tossing a bottle of water to Mark, who catches it and thanks him with a nod. “I trust him.”

Mark hums, gulping down the water and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as Jackson stands there, trying to give an apology he’s recited in his mind over and over again.

“Listen-“

“You’re doing that thing again.” Mark interrupts, and Jackson blinks. 

“What thing?”

“Where you say you’re shit at comforting someone and gives a whole speech like you’re some damn therapist.”

Jackson opens his mouth, then closes it. He hadn’t expected his apology to end up like this. 

“You say that yet you’re the one psychoanalyzing me right now.”

Mark huffs out a laugh, stepping closer to Jackson. “Anyways, I know what you want to say. And it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“It’s not,” Jackson frowns, “We’ve talked about this before.”

“Yeah?” Mark raises an eyebrow, “And I think we’ve pretty much concluded that you and Jinyoung are perfectly fine without me. So just, forget about me. Ignore me, whatever.”

“What?” Jackson feels his anger rising now. He should’ve taken Jaebeom’s advice on those anger management classes, he realizes, as his voice level rises as well. “How the fuck did you come to that conclusion?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Mark scoffs, his voice bitter. “How about the fact that every single time you think I’m asleep or I’m not aware, you two act like you’re on a honeymoon and right after, you call me out on shit and try to include me like it’s some team-building exercise!”

“You know that Jinyoung and I care about you as much as we care about each other,” Jackson growls, taking a step closer to Mark. “I don’t know how you came up with that self-pitying bullshit but it’s the fucking furthest away from the truth.”

“Do I know?” Mark laughs without humor, right in Jackson’s face. To Jackson, it feels more like a slap. 

“Mark.” 

“What?” Mark glares at Jackson, “Are you going to tell me you love me or something?”

“I want to.” Jackson glares right back, and he’s not really sure what he’s even saying at this point as all rational thought goes out the window. “And guess what?”

“What?” Mark spits out, and only then Jackson realizes their noses are almost touching. He doesn’t know when they got so close to each other, but now Jackson finds himself tilting his head down slightly to look at Mark. 

“I want to kiss you too.” Jackson’s voice is angry, and there’s a silence that passes. A silence where both men won’t back down from their stances, and standing too close for comfort face-to-face.

 _This is just great._ Jackson thinks miserably. He pissed off Mark and he’s pissed off as well.

What a great apology. 

“Wow.” The door opens, and both Jackson and Mark turn to see Jinyoung lift up his sunglasses to stick them in his hair, then throw the car key into the key bowl (which is just a dollar store plastic bowl that has badly designed bumper sticker slogans that Jinyoung and Mark insisted to buy). 

“The walls here are thin, you know. Yesterday I heard a fascinating and passionate argument about whether selling crushed up expired painkillers as coke was a good idea or not when I was walking down the hallway.” Jinyoung says, lifting a cloth tote bag with one hand. 

“It’s not.” Mark mutters, and Jinyoung nods.

“Noted. Anyways, help me with groceries?”

Jackson and Mark both rush to Jinyoung, and like some cliché drama their hands touch when they both reach for the tote bag. 

Jinyoung sighs, snatching the bag away from them as he walks over to the table. 

“Alright, everyone. To the couch.”

Sometime in between the time they spent at the motel, Jinyoung became somewhat of a leader. And when he calls a meeting, it’s a meeting where their deepest darkest secrets are casually discussed. 

They learned a _lot_ about each other in just a few days, and it usually ended with them passing out from crying or laughing, usually the latter.

Whether it was about Jinyoung’s mother (which Jackson very much wanted to discuss more), Mark’s past (which Jackson only knew a little about), or Jackson exposing himself, there was no judgment, only understanding. 

It’s quite therapeutic, in Jackson’s opinion. Besides, the next day they all wake up feeling more refreshed than ever, able to take on another day of cracking (a little morbid) jokes and acting like normal friends. Orr boyfriends. Or whatever the hell they were. 

And speaking of which, Jackson sends a small glare at Mark, reminded of why he was angry in the first place. 

“Okay,” Jinyoung’s sitting criss cross on the couch, with Jackson and Mark on the carpet below like sole children being scolded by a parent. “Mark, you go first. I heard what you said about me and Jackson’s PDA, but anything else you want to get out?”

It’s a cycle of airing grievances until there is no more hostility between anyone. Surprisingly, between Jackson’s flaring temper, Jinyoung’s idealistic fantasies, and Mark’s defensive silence, it’s a system that works. 

“I want to smoke.” Mark says, rubbing his forehead as he hangs his head. “It’s been getting harder not to resist. And I want Jackson to know that it’s no use throwing me a pity party with you.”

“Okay. We'll talk about the smoking in a second.” Jinyoung turns to Jackson, who looks back at him without a trace of anger. Jackson doesn’t know how Jinyoung manages to calm them down in a second, then piss him off the next. He supposes it’s something called love, not that he would admit it right now. 

“Jackson? Anything you want to say?”

Jackson takes a deep breath, his heart at the base of his throat. “I want Mark to know that you and I care about him, and...like him the same way we like each other. I want him to know that we’re not pitying you or anything; we’re genuine about our feelings.”

The word “love” gets caught between Jackson’s lungs, and is unable to be squeezed out in a sentence.

Jinyoung hums, “Jackson’s right, Mark. You think we would be the type of people to pity someone?”

“Ouch, but true.”

“You know what I mean, asshole,” Jinyoung sticks out his tongue at Jackson, and Jackson laughs lightly. Mark can’t help but break into a small grin too, before settling back into his poker face. Jackson thinks Mark has a lot of pride, despite not showing it. “Anyways, Mark, I’m not the type to joke about a relationship, or not take relationships seriously. And if Jackson didn't like you, you would know. He wouldn’t be fake like that.”

Jackson nods, “I’m serious, Mark. I know I’m shitat talking but I genuinely care about you. A lot. Probably way too much and I’m not really sure why, but it doesn’t matter. Point is I want you. And Jinyoung wants you too. We want you to join this relationship, and not be scared of us leaving you. It’s the three of us in the end.”

Jackson doesn’t know where he pulled that speech from, but he’s damn sure he means everything he says. 

He’s also quite sure from the moment Jinyoung ran In front of his car and the moment he almost ran over Mark, it’s fate or some shit that they were going to end up together. The three of them, no more and no less. 

It’s a little fucked up, how the series of not exactly ideal events led them to each other, but Jackson supposes it’s fitting, like a metaphor or something. 

Mark stays quiet, then sighs as he buries his face in his hands. His shoulders start to shake, and Jackson moves quickly to his side. 

Sometimes Mark gets panic attacks. They’re very rare, and they pass as quietly as they come.

Thinking it’s a panic attack, Jackson lifts Mark’s face up, only to meet Mark’s teary eyes and red face. 

“Mark?” Jinyoung is right beside Jackson as well, his brows furrowed as he stares at Mark.

“You can’t keep doing this, man,” Mark’s voice is slurred as he talks, and Jackson lets him fist his shirt as he looks down. “Making me feel like this.”

Jackson doesn’t say anything for a while, and neither does Jinyoung as Mark’s small sniffles echo through the motel room. Taking a deep breath, Mark wipes the tears that made streaks down his face as he continues looking down on the carpet. 

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung says, making his way to take Mark’s head into his arms. Mark leans against him, because it’s Jinyoung.

“Exactly.” Mark clears his throat, still scratchy from the crying. “It’s... _too_ okay.”

Jackson can’t help but huff out a laugh, “Dude, you realize that’s the exact same thing I think about everyday, right?”

Jinyoung strokes his fingers through Mark’s hair, adding. “You know, based on all that trauma we shared with each other, I don’t think any of us had “normal” situations growing up. None of us are used to this.”

“Maybe we should though,” Jackson sighs, stretching his legs out on the carpet. “We can pretend like we’re not totally fucked up together. Go on dates, wear matching outfits, get couple tattoos and whatever else people do when they’re in a relationship.”

“They fuck a lot.” Mark adds helpfully, and Jackson chokes on his spit as Jinyoung’s face turns beet red. Mark sniffles again, and Jackson finds he doesn’t have the heart to yell at him anymore. 

“Speaking of which,” Jinyoung coughs, grabbing his unopened tote bag and takes out something tightly wrapped by a plastic bag. “I took a trip to the gas station too.”

Jackson takes it, feeling more than one object poke out from the plastic. Unwrapping it, his jaw goes slightly slack and he looks up at Jinyoung, who looks anywhere but at Jackson and Mark. 

“You’re pretty thorough, Jinyoung.” Mark flips through the packs of condoms, and tubes of lube. It’s like he completely forgot about his breakdown earlier, and despite the evident tear streaks on his face his voice is back to that usual casual drawl. “There’s a sex shop down the street, are you sure you don’t want to make a stop there?” 

“Shut up.” Jinyoung says, his cheeks flushed as Jackson grabs another box. 

“Hold on, you bought flavored condoms?” Jackson asks, squinting at the label in tiny font on the package. Shrugging, he tosses the package back into the pile. “I’m down. It’s cocktail flavored.”

Jinyoung hurries to grab the discarded package, eyes glancing over the label hurriedly. “Hang on, flavored condoms exist?”

“On that note, we should take you to that sex shop just to give you the sex ed you missed out on.” Mark laughs, uncapping a tube of lube. “All of these are flavored.”

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung shifts through the pile, “I thought you guys were fucking with me. Why do these things exist? Do people like to eat lube? Is that a kink thing? What the hell are people into these days?”

Mark and Jackson exchange a glance, then proceed to suppress their laughter until Jackson’s sides start to hurt and Mark is half-wheezing. 

“Okay!” Jinyoung claps, pushing everything (the sex pile, Jackson calls it) aside as he clears his throat. “Right. Now on the topic of Mark’s smoking.”

Mark sighs, and Jackson doesn’t know how the older man ended up laying his head on Jackson’s lap but he doesn’t mind, as he unconsciously runs his fingers through Mark’s bleached roots, just like Jinyoung does. Jackson isn’t usually one to show physical affection, and honestly neither is Mark, but he finds himself not minding the way Mark reaches with one hand to rest on Jackson’s arm, or the way Jinyoung’s knees knock gently against his. 

It’s silly, subtle things like this that keeps Jackson going. 

“I don’t know. I’ve been clean for-what? A week or so? It’s starting to really fuck with me.” Mark twists the string of his hoodie as he talks. “I’ve been addicted since I was sixteen. It wasn’t my choice, but it was what the cartel members thought was necessary to keep me loyal.” Mark lets out a dry laugh. “You know about my parents already, but what I didn’t tell you was that the day my dad overdosed and died, the cartel-“ He takes a deep breath, and his grip on Jackson tightens. “The cartel forced me to get rid of his body.”

Jackson feels a chill run down his spine, but that’s nothing compared to the anger, sadness, empathy all mixed into one that he wants to scream out. 

Jinyoung must feel the same, from the way he squeezes Mark’s other hand tighter, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

“That was basically my hazing, and from then on I was trapped. I was fourteen years old at the time.” Mark takes a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut. “For the next two years, they kept me around as a runner-basically what Jungkook does. Except the difference between Yoongi’s cartel and my cartel was that mine drugged me.”

“It was after a delivery, where some rich asshole who was already high out of his mind made really vulgar comments about me, and basically asked to buy me. Obviously, I said no because I was fucking sixteen and he was around fifty, and I wasn’t interested. Apparently he was insanely rich and that made the other members of the cartel think I was gonna run away or some shit.”

Jackson’s not sure if he wants to hear the next part, but he holds his breath as he tries, and fails to keep his hand from shaking too much. 

Jinyoung’s grip on Mark is so tight his knuckles are turning white, and he quickly apologizes when Mark winces slightly. 

“Basically, they started lacing my water and food everyday with small amounts so I wouldn’t notice. Since I lived with them at the time, I didn’t have any other choice to accept it.” Mark’s voice trails off, his face slack and bare if any emotion. “It wasn’t just the drugs either. They-they’d beat me.”

Mark’s whispering now, and Jackson thinks those fucking bastard cartel members are lucky that Bambam’s taken care of them, because Jackson knows that if he ever got a chance, he would kill them.

Jackson’s no stranger to cruel and unusual punishments, and right now he can think of a couple that would suit those bitches.

From the moment they thought of harming Mark, their deaths were inevitable, and Jackson would make sure it wouldn’t be a quick and easy one. 

Jinyoung’s eerily silent, and when he looks up again his eyes are red as he furiously blinks. 

Mark sighs again, blinking as he looks up at Jackson. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For, I don’t know, getting angrily earlier? Being a dick?”

“Shut up.” Jackson’s hands stop their movements in Mark’s hair, to move their ways downward to his face. “It’s not your fault and you know it.”

“I’m just, really fucking scared, you know?” Mark’s voice cracks midway through the sentence. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually gave a shit about me. All of this; it’s just so new.”

“I know,” Jinyoung says, now gently tracing Mark’s knuckles with his thumb. “I know what it feels like to be lonely, stuck with only people who want to hurt you.” He laughs without humor, “I know that way too well.”

Jackson stays quiet, because for as much shit he’s been through, he had Jaebeom most of the time, and later Youngjae and Bambam and Yugeom. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it was for Mark and Jinyoung. 

“Either way,” Jinyoung continues, “If you really need a smoke Yoongi-hyung’s got stashes. I’m sorry for making you quit cold-turkey. That was messed up in your situation.”

Mark shakes his head, “No. I wouldn't even have thought about quitting if it weren’t for you and Jackson. Anyways, it’s not really like you guys are pro therapists or something, and that I could afford to go to rehab.”

Jackson knows it’s necessarily the money part that’s keeping Mark away, but the time and commitment it would take. 

With their circumstances right now, Jackson knows they’d be lucky to live in peace for a bit. 

“Besides, I think part of it is the whole relationship thing,” Mark gestures vaguely with his hands, “I don’t think I want to smoke anymore, at least right now, so please keep doing what you’re doing.”

It’s rare for Mark to show his shyness, and Jackson smiles down at the man. 

“Of course,” Jinyoung says, intertwining his hands with Mark’s. “We’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you.” Mark bites his lip. “Can I ask for something else?”

Jinyoung hums an approval, and Mark sits up slowly. 

“About, uh, earlier,” Mark looks at Jackson weakly, almost timid. 

Jackson starts to smirk as he leans close to Mark. The elder’s demeanor is completely different from when they were at the club, and now that Mark was the center of attention he’s lost his flirty, teasing cool. 

“Stop reading my mind,” Mark groans, leaning into Jinyoung, who’s wearing a similar coyish smile as he lightly pushes Mark towards Jackson. 

“I mean everything I say,” Jackson says, “Even if I’m not exactly thinking.”

“I know.”

“I want to kiss you, Mark.”

Mark exhales slowly. “I know.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Mark nods, and Jinyoung prods at his lower back slightly. 

“Words, Mark.”

“I want you to kiss me.” Mark says, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

And Jackson thinks Mark looks really cute when he’s like this. 

Leaning in close, Jackson sees Mark close his eyes, lips slightly parted as he waits for Jackson. 

This kiss Jackson plants on Mark’s lips is light at first, but then Mark grabs the back of Jackson’s head and Jackson is pulled into a heated make out session. 

When they break apart, Jackson’s slightly out of breath and Mark’s face is even more flushed. 

“That was hot.”

They turn to Jinyoung, who’s still holding Mark’s hand and drawing circles in his palm, now with a mischievous grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. 

“But should I be jealous that my really two beautiful two boyfriends are making out really hotly and I’m left all alone?”

“Now you know how I felt,” Mark pouts, and Jinyoung huffs as he folds his arms. 

“Touché,” he says, unfolding his arms quickly as Mark turns towards him. “But I want to kiss you too.”

Mark smiles, “The feeling’s mutual.”

Jackson knows what Jinyoung’s kisses feel like. They’re soft, gentle, but passionate if needed. 

Jackson now knows what Mark’s kisses feel like. They’re fiery, with conviction, and make Jackson’s lower abdomen heated. 

So seeing Jinyoung and Mark kiss is like a wet fantasy dream that makes Jackson blink twice to take in the wonderful sight. 

Mark takes the lead this time, and Jinyoung lets him, breaking the kiss apart to give permission for Mark’s hands to roam around his lower back, tracing his defined curves. 

Jackson remembers the first time Jinyoung gave him the permission as well, and now he only feels fondness as he watches Jinyoung, and well as Mark, become more comfortable exploring each other. 

Their kiss breaks in a sloppy way, but Jackson only feels happiness (and a little horniness because he _is_ a young 22 year old). 

“That was...something.” Mark says, hands still wrapped around Jinyoung’s waist. 

Giving him a peck on Mark’s red and swollen lips, Jinyoung slides off his lap and helps Mark up. 

“We’ll have plenty of opportunities later, but it's already 6 p.m. and I’m starving from a whole day of shopping,” Jinyoung yawns, pulling Jackson up as well. “Right now, I want to cook a nice dinner date with my two boyfriends and have a little date.”

“So, fast food?”

Jinyoung grins politely, holding both Mark and Jackson’s hands as he drags them to the door. “If you two don’t start eating healthy right now, I swear I will tie you up and shove vegetables and fruits down your throat.”

“Now _that’s_ a kink,” Mark says, and Jackson laughs as Jinyoung wrinkles his nose with a smile. 

“Being healthy is sexy,” Jinyoung says, dragging them out the door. “Now go to the kitchen with me and help me.”

Jackson and Mark let themselves be pulled by Jinyoung to the small kitchen Yoongi has in the back, and Jackson can’t help but think this is so _them_. 

Jackson thinks Mark’s the last missing puzzle piece. 

It takes a few days for the nightmares to settle in. 

Maybe it’s because the first nights of sleeping between Jackson and Mark are enough to keep Jinyoung distracted, but now that he is used to Mark’s soft breaths and Jackson spooning him every now and then Jinyoung has those nightmares again. 

His nightmares are a bit of a mess, ranging from the night he met Jackson and Mark, to his mother, and even to his absent father. 

Jinyoung finds himself tossing and turning every waking minute of the night, which is a little hard considering he has two grown men sleeping besides him. 

Luckily, Jackson is quite the heavy sleeper and Mark is eerily still when he sleeps.

Jinyoung doesn’t want to wake either of them, and he can’t count the number of times he’s stayed up, staring at the dim red numbers of their alarm clock. 

One time, Mark catches him.

“You’re not asleep?” Mark’s voice is deeper and lacking in his usual sardonic humor.

Jinyoung breathes out slowly, blinking at the dark silhouette of Mark’s back.

“Do you ever get nightmares?” Jinyoung whispers, and Mark shifts around the bed to look at him. Jackson stirs slightly to Jinyoung’s right.

“I think so,” he mutters, “But that’s why I got so high. Apparently it fucks with my sleep cycle or whatever, so the really bad nightmares go away. It’s ironic.”

Jinyoung hums, placing a hand on Mark’s cheek. Ever since Mark tried to quit, he’s gotten healthier. His skin is better, and he’s even gotten a nice cheek fat going on. 

“What about now?”

Mark hums, leaning into Jinyoung’s hand, which makes Jinyoung feel a little better. “I can deal with it. I think I’m just too desensitized.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung’s voice is quiet, and he’s unsure if he’s about to set off a bomb. “Do you still want to die?”

Thankfully, Mark doesn’t yell at him, or stay silent. He pauses, humming again in thought. 

“I don’t think so.”

That’s all Jinyoung needs, and he doesn’t prod Mark any further as he traces Mark’s jawline softly in the dark with his index finger. He can hear Mark’s light breathing, the clock ticking, and he blinks as the numbers on the alarm clock hits 2:21 a.m.

Jinyoung doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he wakes again there’s light streaming through the open curtains, and Mark is asleep next to him, his face still nuzzled in Jinyoung’s hand.

_Cute._

Jinyoung feels an empty space next to him, and he hears the faucet turn in the bathroom. Glancing at the clock, he sees it’s already late morning. Yawning, he retreats his hand slowly from Mark(who very cutely pouts in response) and eases out of bed, padding to the bathroom. 

Jackson is in the bathroom, as expected, and he’s brushing his teeth when he sees Jinyoung. His hair is wet, and the bathroom mirror is steamed up from his shower.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

Jinyoung takes a cup and his own toothbrush from the sink and Jackson moves over to give Jinyoung access to the sink as well.

“Slept well last night?” Jackson asks, and Jinyoung hums as he squeezes the last of the tube of toothpaste onto his brush. He was going to have to make another trip later. Sure, the motel has toothpaste tubes but they were all the size of a pinky, so Jinyoung ended up buying bagfuls of toiletries and commodities in the end.

“Mark helped.”

Jackson nods, “I can tell.”

“Jealous?” Jinyoung teases as Jackson rinses his mouth with water. He turns to Jinyoung, drying his hands with a towel. 

“Quite,” Jackson teases right back, and as he slides closer to Jinyoung, Jinyoung can smell the shampoo of his still-wet hair. 

“Really.” Jinyoung leans against the counter, his toothbrush hanging in his mouth as he pulls Jackson even closer to him. “Of who?”

Jackson just smiles as he lets Jinyoung pull at his shirt. 

“Guess.”

Jinyoung groans, rolling his eyes as he playfully pushes Jackson away. “Go find Mark then.”

Jackson laughs lightly, and Jinyoung watches as the worry lines on Jackson’s face fade away. Sometime he wishes he can just stay in moments like these forever, where he’s content and everything’s so comfortingly boring. 

“You called?”

Jinyoung and Jackson turn to see Mark leaning against the door frame, and effectively scaring the shit out of them. 

Jackson holds his hand to his heart, “Dude, I think my heart almost jumped out.”

“You call your boyfriend ‘dude’?” Mark scoffs, pushing past Jackson to get his toothbrush. 

“Sorry _bro_ ,” Jackson teases, and Jinyoung can only laugh as Mark flicks water at Jackson. Jinyoun grins. Jackson’s in a really good mood today. “What the hell, Mark?”

“Didn’t mean to do that, _pal_ ,” Mark grins, “We’re still mates, right?”

“Since when were you British?” Jackson mutters, drying his face with his shirt. Jinyoung politely states at Jackson’s abs. “And of course, buddy. Bros for life.”

“Good to hear from my very official boyfriend,” Mark’s voice is muffled by the sounds of his toothbrush as he smirks in the mirror at Jackson. 

“Love you too,” Jackson rolls his eyes, but there’s only fondness in his voice as he stares right back at Mark. 

Jinyoung can only sigh along as well, as he sees his two boyfriends finally show some affection with each other. Who would’ve thought a few days ago they were ready to rip each other’s throats out?

It’s funny how life works, Jinyoung thinks ironically. He surely hadn’t expected one boyfriend, and now he’s in a bathroom with two. Of course, along with all the illegal shit and whatever the hell they were doing. 

But Jinyoung can’t think of a time when he was happier than now. 

“Oh, I’m out of lollipops.” Mark says, combing through his hair with a brush.

“But I just bought groceries!” Jinyoung pouts, and Mark turns to him with puppy eyes.

“I’ll go with you then.”

“Fine. You’re driving though.” Jinyoung huffs, and Mark nods as a grin spreads over his face.

“Fine. I guess this is a date, then.”

“Who on a grocery store date?” Jackson’s voice is heard from the outside the bathroom, and he peeks in the bathroom without a shirt.

Jinyoung is sure that half of the time at the motel Jackson is shirtless, but he can’t ever get tired of respectfully looking at his chest. 

“Us,” Mark grins, and apparently he has the exact same thoughts as Jinyoung as he scans over Jackson’s upper half. “You coming?”

“Nah,” Jackson’s leaning against the door with a hand on the frame in a way that flexes his muscles, and Jinyoung’s 100% sure Jackson knows what he’s doing. “You and Jinyoung should go on a proper date-just the two of you.”

“Suit yourself,” Mark shrugs, water still dripping down his face as he grabs a towel. 

In the bathroom with two stunning men on a Sunday morning is the last place Jinyoung ever thought he would be in, but he can’t think of anywhere better to be.

Jinyoung really, really likes them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missing gotbangtan interactions rn :’)
> 
> markjinson development woo! i didn’t really expect it to be a slowburn but here we are oops-
> 
> also i just made a [twitter!](https://twitter.com/simplytrashh)
> 
> i'm not active right now lol (party because idrk what to post on there ahaha) but check it out if you’re interested and hmu if you want :)
> 
> comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!


	5. play your cards right (and we might be for life)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! 
> 
> tw (that wasn't in my tags before): homophobia

It’s a couple of days (and a couple of dates) later before they leave the hotel. 

Jinyoung, true to his word, bought some string, hot glue, and glass beads from a craft store nearby and three of them had a long, overdue arts-and-crafts session. 

“Man, I haven’t done this since like, kindergarten,” Mark says, picking up some scissors and cutting off a section of green string.

“Same here,” Jackson picks out a couple of painted glass beads. 

Jackson thinks he doesn’t have much of a childhood. Being an orphan in a foster home whose owners are only doing it for a tax ride-off and a paycheck probably isn’t the ideal. He’s just glad he had Jaebeom throughout his teen years as well. 

Sure, they’ve done their share of illegal shit, but Jackson likes to think they had gray-ish morals. They never stole from individual businesses or those who were working, but big corporate foundations and gangs who had way too much blood on their hands and too much money to spend.

The latter is how Jaebeom met Youngjae, and basically how Jackson met Mark and Jinyoung, so Jackson’s not complaining. 

“Here,” Jinyoung reaches over, helping Jackson tie the string that completes his necklace. “Now it’ll be tight.”

Jackson nods thanks, then quickly brushes a kiss on Jinyoung’s cheek, before ducking his head with a blush.

Jinyoung blinks in surprise, but lets out a small laugh as he punches Jackosn on the arm lightly.

Jackson’s necklace has his abalone shell, reflecting a holographic rainbow in the sun and two transparent glass beads next to it. 

Jinyoung makes a bracelet, his pure white shell stained with brown spots on his wrist, along with a red string and colorful, but tiny beads stringed along.

Mark’s necklace, to Jackson’s surprise, is the most complicated, with his green shell and an ombre beaded design on a white string.

“Woah,” Jinyoung leans in closer to the older man as he studies his necklace, “I didn’t know you were good at this.”

Mark’s face is a bit flushed at Jinyoung’s reaction, and he rubs his arms shyly. “I used to know a group of younger kids from the cartel, and I wanted to give them something fun to do that took their mind off of everything that was happening around them.”   
Jackson looks up at Mark, and he thinks he really had misjudged Mark. he’s glad he knows Mark now.

“You’re kind,” Jackson says, and Mark looks at him with a complicated expression.

“I try.” He says simply. 

“Most people usually don’t,” Jackson says, and Mark blinks. “That’s the difference.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” The corners of Mark’s mouth slowly rise up to a hesitant smile. “You say you don’t know how to talk, but here you are, trying to comfort me.”

“Is it working?

“Unfortunately.” Mark leans back into his chair. “Keep it up and I might just fall in love.”

“Too late now,” Jinyoung interrupts, climbing onto the love seat next to Mark. “You’re stuck with us until death.”

It’s a thing they joke about.

Jackson isn’t the only one who doesn’t like the word love.

Jackson feels relieved, as despite the fact he is still on the run, the past couple of days he spent with Mark and Jinyoung at the motel are a nice break.

Yoongi sends them on the way with some more money and a promise.

“We’ll do something about Milani,” He said, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips as he talks. “But you guys be ready for the worst.”

Jackson nods, before taking one of the cars parked at the motel, leaving the old one behind with another handful of cash and a couple of more credit cards.

Abandoning cars and living on-the-go is already a familiar routine, and Jackson briefly wonders if they can ever live in one place for more than a few days. Then he quickly shakes the thought off, as it’s only a daydream from finding solace in this nightmare. 

“Where are we going next?” Jinyoung asks, rolling up the window as they approach a highway. 

“Well, I don’t have any more stops,” Jackson says, throwing a look over his shoulder. “Mark?”

Mark shrugs, “Told you guys from the beginning. I’m good as long as we have fun.”

“Aren’t we close to the red light district?” Jinyoung asks, and Jackson hums. 

“I’ve never been there personally, but I did hear about the many casinos. It’s as good as a red light district can get, but obviously still some shady shit.”

“I’ve never been to a casino,” Jinyoung says dreamily, and Mark snorts lightly.

“It’s overrated,” He says, leaning into the front seats, “Maybe it’s because I’m shit at gambling, but it wasn’t all that fun.”

“I’m good at gambling,” Jackson grins, “And I sure as hell have gotten into trouble for being a god in casinos.” He and Jaebeom both. 

They had their share of getting kicked out or running away from angry casino investors as they carry a gross bundle of cash. 

Mark laughs, “Who calls themselves a god?”

“I am a god amongst men,” Jackson says melodramatically, which elicits an eye roll from Jinyoung and another ungodly snort from Mark.

“Not that we really need money,” Jackson says, “But I could win us some good shit if you let me.”

“Just don’t win  _ too _ much,” Jinyoung reminds him, “I don’t want another group of people we have to worry about chasing us.” 

Jackson merely smiles in reply, and Jinyoung raises an eyebrow at him before Jackson sighs 

Leaning over, Jackson presses a gentle kiss against the man’s cheek. “Okay. I promise.”

“Hey I want one too!” Mark complains from the back, before Jinyoung shuts him up with a kiss on the lips. 

The rest of the drive goes the same way, and before they know it, they’re at the casino. 

Jackson has a strange feeling in his gut as he glances at Jinyoung, who stays quiet for most of the drive. 

Jackson exchanges a look with Mark, and the elder furrows his brow for a second before Jinyoung starts talking again. 

The casino is loud, filled with people with brand name clothing and elaborate getups. 

Luckily, there’s a thrift shop nearby down the street, where Jackson, Mark, and Jinyoung get dressed up properly for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress shirt,” Mark says drily, sifting through racks of white collared shirts, “It was probably at my dad’s funeral.”

Mark decides to go for a simple white t-shirt, with patterned pants and a black beret matching it. 

Jackson comes out of the fitting room with a semi-sheer top, a black blazer covering most of his chest and tailored pants. 

Jinyoung’s wearing a striking red leather jacket layered on top of a dress shirt and vintage acid-washed jeans, his jacket sliding off one shoulder as he looks around, eyes wide at the loud commotion.

He’s never seen this many people in such a setting. Back in his old town, he’s never bothered to go into a club, much less a fancy casino. He didn’t have the time, money, or energy for it.

But now, standing between Mark and Jackson, Jinyoung doesn’t feel afraid as they move through tables and waves of people.

What also comforted Jinyoung is, surprisingly, the environment. Never would Jinyong have thought a casino’s environment is comforting, but he likes the anonymity and the fact nobody  _ cared _ .

“You guys know how to play poker?” Jackson asks, surveying the tables around him, full of energy and scheming looks. He slides in a chair at a table, where there’s a few people already settled in and playing a game. 

“Kind of,” Mark sits down at the table as well, and Jinyoung joins them. “I’ve got somewhat of an idea.”

Jinyoung has too much of an idea of how to play poker; his father used to play in the living room of his house when Jinyoung was a child, and at one point Jinyoung thought if he took an interest in gambit as well his father would pay attention to him. 

Of course, all that’s in the past now, and Jinyoung has long outgrown his childhood. 

The dealer shuffles the cards, spreading an array of cards in front of him and deals two cards to each player. 

_ To hell with him,  _ Jinyoung thinks, peering at his cards. 

His father is probably in hell anyway. 

Jinyoung knocks once on the desk, signaling he’s calling and both Mark and Jackson raise an eyebrow at him. 

The dealer flips the cards, and Jinyoung shows no reaction as the cards make a nice royal flush with his. 

Some person groans, dropping out as Jackson, Mark, and the one other player playing raise the bet. 

Jinyoung raises as well, tossing in another set of red chips. 

Jinyoung knows what he’s doing. All those hours of studying how to play poker finally pays off, and in the least expected way. 

Yes, maybe Jinyoung wants to impress his boyfriends (and he still blushes and squeaks at that fact because he is still the biggest romantic he knows), but he also wants to prove he can play for himself, for once. 

The dealer flips the final card, and now it’s only Jinyoung, Mark, and Jackson who are still in the game. 

Making another round of bets, the dealers wave a quick, ceremonial hand. 

“Players, reveal your cards.”

Mark goes first, revealing his ten of hearts and a small three of cloves. 

Jackson grins, setting down his jack of spades and five of hearts. 

They turn to Jinyoung expectantly, and Jinyoung wordlessly turns over his cards. 

An ace of spades and a queen of hearts. 

Jinyoung waits until the surprise from Jackson and Mark’s faces fade to a mix of excitement and proudness, to smile and collect all his chips. 

“Jinyoungie,” Jackson pouts, leaning on the palm of his hands, “You didn’t tell me you were good at gambling.”

“You should’ve known,” Jinyoung says, tossing his cards to the dealer, “No sane person would take a gamble on this relationship.”

Jackson widens his eyes comically, faking offense as Mark just laughs, probably louder and higher than he expected. 

The man next to Jinyoung snorts, “Beginner’s luck.”

Before Jackson or Mark can come to Jinyoung’s defense, Jinyoung turns to the man calmly. He’s a middle-aged man with a beer belly, picking at his teeth with a toothpick.

“You dropped the second round, right?”

“Yeah?” The stranger looks at Jinyoung with disdain. “The risk was too high. I was playing it smart.”

“You had an ace and a three, didn’t you?” Jinyoung asks, and the man widens his eyes in shock. 

“How the fuck-are you cheating?”

Jinyoung huffs, “And you call me an amateur? Reading cards is literally the most common thing in poker. I just happen to be good at it.”

The man is still looking at him incredulously, and Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “Having à spade would have been perfect for a flush, but that small number card made you doubt. If you had stuck with your original cards, you would’ve won this round. There’s some math that goes into it, but I don’t think you’re very interested.”

“You’re tynna tell me how to play, kid?” The man chuckles, but Jinyoung only feels a familiar sense of disgust. 

The man is just like his father-probably reincarnated. Jinyoung’s reminded of the times he would try to help his father during poker, that was very poorly received. 

If Jinyoung has to guess, his mother learned how to be abusive from his father.

He just hopes he hasn’t inherited his father's traits. 

Sometimes Jinyoung thinks he was born in the wrong family, and that his parents aren’t actually his biological parents. He can’t fathom how they were so cruel to him as a child, and neither did he fathom how anyone could be so cruel to their own children. 

“Hey!” The man suddenly gets up, “I’m talking to you!”

The loud shout startles Jinyoung out of his (pity party, he thinks) thoughts, and before he knows it he’s dodging the other man’s harsh shove, making the man trip over his own feet. 

Jackson and Mark are in front of him right away, blocking the man from reaching Jinyoung again. 

Jinyoung feels another burst of thankfulness, that while he was never given the love he needed as a child by the two people he cared for the most, that love, perhaps stronger, is returned by the two people he cares for the most now. 

_ Maybe the universe is fair,  _ Jinyoung thinks, and it’s a bittersweet thought. 

“Are you hurt?” Mark’s voice is low in Jinyoung’s ears, and Jinyoung shakes his head as he watches the man reel back. 

“I’m okay,” He grins, and winks at his boyfriends, “Learned a thing or two from you guys.”

While that seems to calm Jackson down a little, Jinyoung frowns as he watches Jackson’s temper flare up again as the man crawls back onto his feet, a snarl on his face. 

“Fucking disgusting, all of you,” He spits on the floor in front of Jinyoung, his eyes scanning at the three of them. “You’re all going to hell for this.”

Jinyoung smiles wryly. That would probably be the last thing he would go to hell for. 

Besides, he’s sure he, Mark, and Jackson have experienced hell and back. 

Jinyoung has to grab Jackson’s arm, along with Mark’s help, to stop him from jumping the man right then and there. Jinyoung exchanges a look with Mark and confirms the fact that if they let go now, Jackson will pummel the man to death. 

“You fucking say one more word and I swear to whatever god you believe in I’ll I carve your organs out and feed it to you,” Jackson growls, no longer struggling against Jinyoung and Mark. Jinyoung feels an uncontrollable shiver down his spine as he listens to Jackson’s icy voice, but burning gaze. Something about the way Jackson speaks prompts Jinyoung to believe him. 

“ _ While _ you’re still alive,” Mark adds nonchalantly, “A human can survive being cut into for a while, if properly done. Would you like to test out that theory?”

Jinyoung tries not to react to what Mark says-and knowing the older man he’s probably just bullshitting-but it’s the way he says it that makes Jinyoung feel a pain in his side, breathing out a quick relief as he realize his vital organs are still in him and working. 

scrambles, not knowing Mark and Jackson, the man looks like he’s about to shit his pants as he scrambled away, muttering curses under his breath. 

It’s only then Jackson and Mark turn to Jinyoung, the previous animosity switching into concern. 

“Are you hurt?” Jackson reaches out to grab Jinyoung’s hands, then settles on brushing his hand Jinyoung’s shoulder.

Jinyoung shakes his head, reaching up to grip Jackson’s hand with his own. “I told you—I can defend myself.”

“Please-“ Mark laughs, slinging his arm on Jinyoung’s other shoulder. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jackson clears his throat, seemingly shy as he agrees. “You...you react quicker than I expected.”

Flicking the other man in the forehead, Jinyoung gives a huff. “Told you. I’m not incompetent.” Looking around, Jinyoung points at the entrance to the mall of the casino with a grin. “Let’s go shopping with the money I won!”

If there’s one thing that calms Jinyoung’s mind, it’s retail therapy.

After rounds of luxurious stores and carrying enough bags to weigh a few weights, Mark, Jackson, and Jinyoung collapse on the king-sized bed of their hotel. 

Their room is a big suite, comparable to the one near Bambam and Yugyeom’s club. 

It has a nice view of the city outside, with neon signs and ongoing traffic. 

Jackson gets up, clambering out of the bed and standing to peer out the window. Mark is mindlessly flipping through channels on the (much more modern) TV and Jinyoung is already half-asleep, sprawled on the bed.

“We should go to Las Vegas,” Jinyoung’s voice is muffled by the layers of blankets.

“Then it won’t be me getting into trouble at casinos—it’d be you,” Jackson says, turning away from the window to give Jinyoung a fond smile. 

Jinyoung pouts, sitting up as much as he can on the bed. Mark sits up as well, turning up the TV as he does.

“What’s the plan with Milani?” Mark asks, and Jackson’s expression darkens. 

“There’s not much to do except keep running,” Jackson sighs, joining Mark and Jinyoung on the bed. “I do plan dealing with them eventually, but that would be dangerous.”

Jinyoung purses his lips, eyes roaming around the room. “If that’s the case, you should teach me how to defend myself.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jackson nods, “Mark and I both know self-defense to an extent, but we also know how to use weapons properly.”

“A gun would be helpful,” Mark says, and Jackson gives a-way-too-excited grin. 

Jackson gets up, walking to the other side of the room to pull out a black briefcase. 

“Bam and Yugyeom’s goods,” Jackson says, opening the briefcase to reveal a collection of weapons—ranging from guns to knives to rasers. 

“I was wondering what that case was for,” Jinyoung leans from the side of the bed, eyes wide as he scans the rows of weapons. “Holy  _ shit _ ”

“How come every time you have some sort of bag it always contains something highly illegal?” Mark laughs, and Jackson rolls his eyes, shutting the briefcase (and shutting Mark up with a kiss). 

“It’s  _ helpful _ ,” Jackson says, sliding the case and locking it into the hotel safe. He then bit his upper lip, before tampering with the lock a bit. 

“There.” Jackson dusted off his hands and rejoined the other two men on the bed. “Now hotel staff won’t be able to open it either.”

“There’s a shooting range nearby,” Jinyoung says, scrolling through his phone, “Boxing clubs and gyms too. We can start tomorrow.”

Jackson sighs, putting Jinyoung’s hand down and snatching his phone. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Mark huffs, grabbing the phone out of Jackson’s hand. “You go to sleep too.  _ We’re _ all going to sleep because it’s one in the fucking morning and we all need rest.” 

“Mark’s right,” Jinyoung smiles, and somehow, some way, the phone ends up back in his hand. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Jackson hums, albeit unwillingly, but still reaches over to turn off the lamp on the bed stand table. 

“Keep the TV on.” Jinyoung’s voice is slurred due to sleep, and Mark gives him a light peck on the cheek to answer.

The room eventually fades to snores and breathing, and Mark’s consciousness starts to fade.

“I feel guilty.”

Jackson’s voice startles him slightly, and Mark opens his eyes with (much) effort to look at his boyfriend. Glancing at Jinyoung, who’s snuggled between them, Mark realizes the younger man is already fast asleep.

“For what?” Mark whispers back, and Jackson shifts to look at him. In the blue light of the TV, Jackson’s face is illuminated like some sort of twisted moonlight. 

“The fact that you and Jinyoung have to put up with my baggage.”

Mark almost wakes Jinyoung up with his huff, and he quickly silences himself. 

“Jackson.” Mark sits up, and Jackson follows suit. “Jinyoung and I don’t care as long as we’re all together—you know this.”

“I know. It’s just—” Jackson runs a quick hand through his hair, which was sticking up due to sleep. “It really fucking sucks that Jinyoung has to learn how to protect himself because of me, you know? That he has to be exposed to this bullshit because of  _ me _ and my problems.” Frowning, Jackson purses his lips at Mark. “And  _ you _ have to be the one to calm me down. It’s...terrible. It’s not fair to you. At all. And I hate that.”

“Hey,” Mark reaches over Jinyong to grab Jackson’s shoulder, “We all have our own problems. It’s not fair to  _ you  _ to think that everything is your fault. We’re all kind of fucked up in our own ways, and you know even if it weren’t for you, Jinyoung would learn to defend himself. You’re not the problem—it’s all on the shitty people and situations we experience for some fucking reason.” 

“Jinyoung and I aren’t innocent. Besides,” Mark leans over so he’s facing Jackson. “As cheesy as it sounds, we have each other now. And there’s no way we’re letting each other go.”

Shifting his hand from Jackson’s shoulder to his cheek, Mark realizes it’s wet. 

“Are you...crying?”

Jackson doesn’t slap Mark’s hand away, like Mark expects, but leans into it instead as he sniffles lightly. “Yes. And fucking what about it? Anybody would after your cliche-ass speech.”

Mark blinks, then giggles as Jackson pouts. Sometimes he forgets the man is only 22 years old, and too young to experience the things he did.

But then again, the same thing could be said for Mark, so Mark doesn’t voice his thoughts out loud. 

Besides, it’s not just Jinyoung who’s learned a thing or two from Jackson. 

“Thanks,” Jackson says, through his remaining tears. He opens his mouth, before mumbling out another, “thanks”.

“Anytime.” Mark clears his throats as he wipes the rest of his tears away, but Jackson holds Mark’s hand to keep him there. 

They don't say anything for the rest of the night, and just like many other nights, Mark falls asleep to the sound of Jinyoung and Jackson’s breathing.

Mark thinks he loves them, and while that thought scares him shitless, he means what he says to Jackson.

He doesn’t regret anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there may or may not be angst coming soon :') but more markson development yay!
> 
> comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> [twitter!](https://twitter.com/simplytrashh) :)


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